


begin again

by wibbelkind



Series: and for the first time what's past is past [begin again 'verse] [1]
Category: Nothing Much to Do
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Asexual Relationship, Asexuality, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Future Fic, Redemption, University
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-20
Updated: 2015-02-12
Packaged: 2018-02-21 23:31:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 55,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2486273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wibbelkind/pseuds/wibbelkind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hero and John meet again at uni. A new city, a new beginning, everything's forgiven but not everything forgotten.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. nice to meet you, where you been?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ofilia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ofilia/gifts), [perksofbeingabooknerd](https://archiveofourown.org/users/perksofbeingabooknerd/gifts), [Cones_McMurphy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cones_McMurphy/gifts).



> I had my ideas for these two for a while, ever since John's confession video. I've never dared to talk about it but then Mara came along and apparently I'm not the only one who ships future John/Hero. So this is me, imagining what John will be like in the future and figuring out if Hero could really forgive him.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John comes back from his gap year and moves to Wellington to study Fine Arts at Massey University. It's all fine until he meets a familiar face.

It's the same old city but he's a whole different person. One year away from home, spending his gap year in England, coming to terms with his past. He's ready to move forward now, to face the future and not look back any more. So it takes him about a month being back home before he makes his decision.

His dad and Ann are worried, of course, but it's the one thing he's adamant about. He wants to move out. Pedro got to do it, but then again that's a given considering the fact that he moved halfway around the world to be with his boyfriend in Brighton. Balthazar's got a band there and Pedro doesn't really care where he is or what he's doing as long as it's with Balth.

In the end it's Ann who gives in first and convinces his dad as well. Wellington is only six hours from home but it's distance enough. He moves into a small one-room-flat and on his first night he sits on the floor, back against his new bed, trying not to cry. After a while he picks up his notepad and just begins to draw. It's what distracts him, what keeps him calm and grounded. It's the reason he's here.

  


His first week at Massey University is lonely. He's no good at making friends. He keeps to himself in courses, being quiet and watching people. All the other students are so outgoing and happy to be here. He is too, but he also feels lost, like he doesn't belong. His love for the fine arts is not manifested in years of practice, it's newly found and fresh. It's a way of dealing with things now. And maybe he still isn't as confident as everyone else about sharing it.

He's supposed to come back to Auckland for the weekend but he decides otherwise. There's a free art lab on Saturday and it's basically just a chance to work in a proper art studio on anything you like. He might not like sharing or socialising, but he likes art and that's a start.

During his gap year he has tried a lot of different styles but his favourite still has to be charcoal. He still hasn't let go of black being his favourite colour and the texture and softness of charcoal sticks, they way it covers his fingers in black dust, is a preference to any kind of pencil. He draws in long connected lines, smudging details and biting his lips while he works.

  


He's so absorbed in his drawing he doesn't realise there's someone standing next to him. Or he does, he just doesn't acknowledge the person, not yet.

“That's Pedro, right?”, she finally asks. He just nods, too preoccupied with getting his half-brother's hair right. It takes him about thirty seconds until he realises that something isn't right.

“How do you know-?”, he starts and looks at the person standing next to him. Hero.

“Hi John”, she says with a soft smile. Her hair is still the same length as it was the last time he saw her, on their graduation day, over a year ago. It's up in a ponytail and she's wearing an old sweater that already has some paint on it.

“Hi”, he replies, still in shock. He puts down his charcoal sticks and wipes his black fingers on a cloth he has lying around for this exact purpose.

“What are you doing here?”, he asks because it's the logical question to ask.

“I study here”, she replies. “Design, second year. I haven't done art lab in forever though, so I thought, why not give it a try?”

He smiles, for the first time this week, and shakes his head. “What are the chances, right? Meeting you here...” He trails off, folding the cloth back together.

“How are you doing?”, Hero asks.

“Good”, he replies. She knows he spent all of his last year in high school doing weekly therapy sessions. “Everything's still new here, but I'm okay.” She nods, that everlasting smile on her lips but he can see she's not quite satisfied with his answer. “How are you?”, he asks in return.

“Oh, you know, second year here”, she says, shrugging her shoulders. “It starts to feel like home and everything. And I really like most of my courses, so... I'm good. Yeah.” She scratches a bit of paint off of her nails.

“What are you working on?”, he asks. She smiles up at him.

“Wanna see it?”, she replies. “Come on.”

  


At least he has one friend in Wellington now, he thinks as he closes his apartment door behind himself, dropping his shoulder bag on the second-hand sofa.

The truth is, Hero and him never really were friends. He was too busy with his own problems to even truly notice her in high school. Up until her sixteenth birthday she was nobody to him. And then he hurt her, unintentionally, and even though he apologised to her and everyone else, he still didn't feel like they were anything but acquaintances. She's a miracle to him, how she forgave him back then, how she always had a smile to offer when they were sitting two rows apart in class and bored as heck. On their graduation day she came over to him and pulled him down into a hug, something nobody, especially not him, was expecting.

And now they're both here, in Wellington, studying at the same university. Maybe it's a sign, a second try, a clean slate. He doesn't know what to do with it yet, but it feels good. It feels right.

 


	2. you showed up just in time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hero is fine until her past comes back to haunt her.

She's found herself, growing stronger every day. Her sixteenth birthday is long forgotten. Not forgotten in the sense that she hasn't learned from it. But forgotten in the sense that she's over all that drama and heartbreak. She's forgiven all the boys because she understands that teenage boys can be jerks sometimes but maybe they grow up to be responsible adults who have learned from their mistakes. She's forgiven them because, as Gandhi once said: Forgiveness is the attribute of the strong.

Wellington is her new home now. Unlike her cousin who immediately jumped on the next plane with her boyfriend as soon as graduation day had passed, Hero isn't one to travel the world. She's studying at a creative arts university and she's surrounding herself with friends she loves and knows she can trust. For one thing, she's happy. And that's all that matters.

 

Seeing him at the art lab is a shock. Not like a scare, making her freeze and her mind scramble for emergency exits. A surprised shock, a slow-motion moment where everyone around her seems to stop moving, her lips curling into a smile. She watches him, charcoal gliding over paper, fingers smudging lines. His dark hair is a bit shorter than it used to be, especially in the back. He's wearing a dark grey sweater and it almost surprises her because how could John Donaldson have any other clothes than grey and black?

She hesitates at walking up to him but then she does. When he turns to look at her, she resists the urge of hugging him instantly. The careful conversation starts and he's actually smiling, happy to see her here. It's just a few minutes, too short to see everything that's changed but she can feel it.

At the end of the day she walks over and asks for his phone number because she's never had it before and now they live away from home in the same city and why wouldn't they want to stay in contact? She watches him drive away on his bike and can't help but feel what this must be like for him. In a new city, all alone, and then meeting her. The girl who accidentally became collateral damage in his convoluted plan.

 

In the evening she skype-calls her cousin who is still on the other side of the globe. “I met John today”, she say halfway into the conversation.

“What?”, Bea asks, not quick at catching her drift.

“John”, Hero repeats. “He goes to Massey too now.”

“Who's John?” Bea is furrowing her brow. Hero's not sure if she's just playing or if she really cares so little about John Donaldson that she doesn't even realise when he's mentioned.

“Pedro's brother”, Hero says. Apparently that puts the pieces together in Bea's head.

“Oh, **that** John!”

“Yes, that John.”

“Okay, that's... weird?”

“No, it's okay, it was nice to see him again.”

“Hero, you find everyone and everything nice”, Bea sighs. “Even the boy who used you like a chess piece in his scary mind-games when you were sixteen.”

“Are you still hung up on that?”, Hero asks, shaking her head. “That was two years ago. We've all learned our lesson.”

She can hear the door of Bea's bedroom open and a few seconds later a messy-haired Ben stumbles into the picture. He grins at the computer screen and waves.

“Hey Hero!”

“Hi Ben.” Hero gives him a small wave and a smile. “How's Scotland?”

“Cold”, Benedick states. “Windy. Rainy. The occasional snowstorm.”

“Sounds fun.”

“Hero met John today”, Bea interrupts their chit-chat.

“John Donaldson?”, Ben asks, sounding surprised.

“Yes”, both girls confirm.

“So he's back in New Zealand?”

“He's studying fine arts at Massey”, Hero explains. “I met him at art lab today.”

“Sounds like he's getting better”, Ben says. Hero nods.

“I thought so too”, she replies. “He looked happier as well. I think the gap year helped a lot.” She can see Bea biting her lip.

“Oh come on, Bea, what are you worried about?”, she sighs. “He's not a bad person.”

“Fine”, Bea groans. “But I swear, if he hurts you again-”

“Got it.”

 

She tries not to overthink it but somehow like it is with these things she ends up thinking about him way too much. Wondering what he's doing, where he lives now, if he gets along with his brother, what kind of art projects he's working on. She's standing in the kitchen of her shared apartment, waiting for her tea to brew, scrolling through her phone contacts. On the one hand she wants to talk to him so badly, to catch up and see how he's doing. On the other hand she doesn't want to push him into something he doesn't want.

So she slips her phone back into the pocket of her dress and picks up her cup of tea. Tomorrow, she tells herself. Tomorrow.

 


	3. like shadows in a faded light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything seems to go well for John. Until he's at a party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm very sorry this is taking so long. University is having me do lots of stuff I wish I didn't have to do. I'm trying to move the story forward, but it's moving very slowly.

Somehow meeting one person can set off a whole chain of events. For John it's meeting other people. He doesn't just sit by quietly, he listens, he answers questions, he talks about his art and sometimes he smiles. They have a lot of projects where they have to work in groups, cooperate, learn from each other. So he tries his best.

He meets Moira, a girl with short chestnut brown curls from the South Island, who is in almost every single one of his classes and who is the exact opposite of him, lively and colourful. Then there's Tama who likes to paint with his fingers instead of using brushes and always wears his long dark hair in a ponytail with a glitter elastic. Finley, who is almost the same height as him and constantly wears Doc Martens, shows him how to use a SLR camera and Indie is the first person he takes a picture of, her ombre hair tousled by the Wellington wind.

They're not exactly friends but they're people to hang out with, to fill that tiny amount of social need he has. He doesn't have friends any more, at least that's what he tells himself. Robbie never was a friend and Cora... well, that was something else, something in the past.

  
  


When Finley asks him to come to some kind of party on their third week in Wellington, he just shrugs. Why not? He might not be a fan of parties but he decides it's better than spending the night alone, in his apartment. So he puts on one of his black sweaters and tries to not look too bored.

The party is at someone's house with music loud enough that there will be noise complaints sooner or later. Moira and Indie are off dancing and John is leaning against the kitchen counter, nursing a beer while listening to Finley going on and on about photography class. She's good at talking and he's good at pretending to listen, so they make a good team.

  
  


There's a flash of blond hair in the corner of his eye and he instantly turns his head. Maybe he's just seeing things. The blond-haired girl has his back turned to him and walks arm in arm with some guy, short brown hair. John looks back at Finley. “Sorry, what were you saying?”, he asks. Shouts more like it because you can barely talk in normal volume with the music this loud. “It's just so frustrating”, she vents. “I've been doing photography for years-” He zones out again, just nodding along. This works pretty well on Finley he's learned.

Somewhere during his second beer, Moira comes in and grabs his hand. “Come on!”, she shouts at him. “Loosen up a bit!” “I don't dance!”, he shouts back. She makes a pouty face, then ruffles his hair. Nobody ever ruffles his hair. “My bad”, she remarks. “If you change your mind-” “I know where to find you.”

  
  


He ends up sitting on the porch, considering the pros and cons of leaving the party. He never was one for parties and this one reminds him way too much of the ones Pedro would throw at their house. Back then he had Cora to hang around with, who would share his dislike of gatherings like that and still felt the peer pressure to attend them. But Cora is in Auckland, studying law of all things. How did that happen?

  
  


Someone sits down next to him and he expects it to be Moira or Finley or even Indie, but instead it's Hero Duke.

“Hi”, she says. He nods at her as a form of greeting.

“I thought I saw you back in there”, he states.

“Yeah, we came around 11 or so.”

“Hmm.”

“So how are you liking Wellington?”

“It's okay.”

“You met anyone-”

“Hero, you sound like my mum.”

“Sorry.”

They both smile, staring down at their shoes. She's wearing rather pretty ones with wine red ribbons. He just has his normal sneakers on and it makes him feel kind of out of place.

“So where are your friends?”, he asks.

Hero shrugs.

“Having the time of their lives I guess.”

“Shouldn't you be in there with them?”

“I'm not particularly a fan of parties.”

“So why'd you go?”

“Chris asked me to come.”

“Who's Chris?”

Hero hesitates for a moment.

“Someone I know”, she finally says. “It's his party.”

“Ah. So now that you've made your obligatory appearance you've decided to hang around here with me?”

“You make it sound like hanging out with you is a bad thing.”

“I've never had people do it freely”, he says, surprised by his own honesty. “There's always someone more interesting around.”

“I think you're pretty interesting.”

Hero rests her chin in her hands, looking over at him. He just shakes his head.

 


	4. wondering which version of you I might get tonight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hero and John struggle with reconnecting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I've been trying to delve a bit deeper into Hero's mindset and found that she's actually not really over the whole thing and that she's just pretending for everyone, including herself, that she's over the heartbrak and drama. But she really isn't. So here's another chapter.

They sit in silence for a few minutes. Part of her just wants to get up and leave because this is stupid, why is she even here, talking to John Donaldson of all people? The thing is he's part of her old life, and talking to him feels like opening a door into the past. The good and the bad. It proves to her how far she's come and how much she still has to do. Because forgiving is one thing but it doesn't heal a broken heart.

But she's been tending to her broken heart for two years now and even though she's been telling herself she's over it, the truth is that it's only become a dull ache, a scar that still hurts from time to time. Like the time she runs into Claudio at the grocery store back in Auckland, a few days before New Year's, arm in arm with his new girlfriend. She wants to yell at the new girl, telling her to run because that boy is trouble. But maybe she's the lucky one, maybe Claudio has learned from his mistakes and treats her better. So Hero just smiles politely, asks how he's been and curls her hands into fists in the pockets of her cardigan.

Seeing John is different though. Her mind doesn't associate him with heartbreak. Her mind doesn't know where to put him, to be honest. Disappointment maybe, hurt or distrust. But truth be told, when she sees him sitting on the porch, all she can think of is her first party in Wellington, how she didn't know anybody really well and the homesickness came seeping through.

  


So she sits with him because she feels that nostalgia and she doesn't really want to be a the party. The conversation is just a way out without appearing rude. Behind them the music is booming through open doors, heavy bass and constant drums. Hero picks her nails, a sign of nervousness, but her nail polish was gonna chip any way.

“Why are you hanging out here?”, she asks even though she already knows the answer to that.

“Trying to pass the amount of time that is deemed appropriate by society before one can leave a party”, John says.

She didn't expect such an eloquent answer.

“How long is that?”, she asks with a smile.

“Until everyone around you is too drunk to notice you missing”, he replies.

“Shouldn't be too long then.”

“Probably.”

“You don't drink?”, she asks, pointing at the bottle of coke in his hand.

“I do”, he replies. “Just... not that much. It numbs the senses.”

“Yeah...”, she says, taking a sip of her cider.

  


“Do you want me to walk you home?”

It's an unexpected offer. John's still standing in front of the house when she comes back out, having said goodbye to her friends and excused herself with a fake headache.

“Oh, don't worry, it's only a few blocks down”, she says.

“Okay.” He grabs his bike which he parked just around the corner. “See you 'round then.”

Hero watches him mount, wrapping her cardigan closer around herself.

“Where are you headed?”, she asks.

John points down the street.

“Me too.” She hesitates, then continues: “Wanna walk with me?”

“I thought you didn't want me to walk you home.”

“No, I just meant walk with me, as long as we share the same way- Forget it.”

John de-mounts and walks up next to her.

“Lead the way then.”

  


She lives in a shared apartment in Newtown which is a twenty minutes walk from where they are now. She would've gotten there on her own, never had an issue on the way, but having someone walk with her is much more reassuring.

They walk in silence, passing Massey Campus on Wallace Street.

“So where do you live?”, Hero asks.

“Mount Cook. Brooklyn Road.”

“But we're already past that.”

“I know. But apparently you live more than just a few blocks down, so...”

She wants to object but then she considers the option of walking the rest of the way home alone and quickly brushes it aside. Besides, John doesn't sound like he's up for an argument.

“Do you share a flat?”

“No.”

“Oh. Okay.”

It doesn't sound like they're able to hold up a conversation, so Hero just stops pushing it. Maybe silence is what they're good at. It suits them. Her with her hands in the pockets of her dress and him pushing his bike along between them on the pavement.

  


“This is my flat”, she says, stopping in front of the house at the corner of the street. “Thank you for walking with me.”

“No problem.”

An awkward pause.

“I guess I'll see you around then?”

“Probably.”

But it feels like she won't. They're both here at the same university in the same city and they're probably going to run into each other occasionally, but John makes it seem like that's all. All the excitement of seeing someone she knows, seeing him doing better, it slowly begins to fade.

“Goodnight, John”, she says, getting out her keys, giving him a weak smile.

“Night”, he mutters, mounting his bike and before she can even unlock the door he's off, driving down the street, not turning around any more.

  


It seems back to the usual. John at the party was just like he would have been two years ago and it crosses her mind that maybe it's just a facade, that really he hasn't changed at all, he's the same gloomy and dark person he was in high school. And she can't deal with that person. It brings back memories all too unpleasant.

Because yes, she's forgiven, she reminds herself of that constantly. But she can't forget and there's a voice in the back of her head telling her that that person, John from high school, messed with her life in a way that some people, like Beatrice, deemed unforgivable. She knows his intention wasn't towards her, he's told her as much in his apology back then.

Heart and mind are two different things. And it's this simple fact that makes everything so much more difficult.

 


	5. it's coming over you like it's all a big mistake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John makes a unexpected friend who challenges his view on things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm slowly getting into the feel and depths of this. Thank you all for kudos and nice comments! Please bear with me, this is eventually getting somewhere.  
> The plan for this is to divide it into the semesters they spend at uni together, which should be 6 semesters (3 years) from my calculation. Each semester will be divided into five parts and as you've probably already gathered I'm switching the points of view every chapter. So the focus will probably shift as well between semesters... We'll see how it works out.

He wants to slap himself because his mind went back to autopilot at that party and he knows too well how that reflects on people. Dark John, moody John, the person who sits in the corner, invisible, doesn't say much. But sometimes it's easier for him to be that person. It's a reflex, a coping mechanism. To be short, parties probably bring out the worst in him.

He can see it in Hero's smile when she says goodbye. Disappointment. Another person's expectations he didn't live up to. And he didn't even know she had any expectations for him. She shouldn't have. They hardly know each other, the only thing that connects them is a group of friends that broke apart, that he wasn't even part of, and a convoluted plan that made her collateral damage.

So why is she so interested in him now? Is it guilt? And if so, shouldn't he be the guilty one? He can't find a fitting explanation, so he just shakes it off as Hero Duke trying to be nice. Which probably ends here, with him being his moody self.

  


He runs into her on Monday for the first time. He's just waiting in the hallway with Finley and Tama, waiting for Moira to get out of class because she has questions for their tutor, like she usually has. Finley has been explaining in length all the fun things Tama has missed at the party and she's still going on. John just leans against the wall, zoning out, staring down the hallway

And suddenly there she is, grey blouse, high-waisted shorts and knee-high socks, walking out of a classroom with the same guy he thought he saw her at the party with, both in agitated conversation. He doesn't think she sees him as she walks past but just then she looks up and gives him a small smile. “Hi.” “Hi.” He tries to smile back. It doesn't really work until Hero's already past him.

Tama looks at him weirdly. “You met someone at the party?”

“No, I know her from back home”, John replies. “Family friends.”

“But you were talking at the party”, Finley interrupts. “I saw you two-”

“Yeah, well, she was at the party and I was, so...”

“I heard she's dating the guy who threw the party.”

“Rumors.” John doesn't particularly like gossiping. Not any more. He's seen the damage it can do. “How do you even hear things like that?”

“I talk to people, John”, Finley says, rolling her eyes. He just raises his eyebrows in annoyance. He doesn't need her to patronise him.

  


He never mentions her to anyone. Not his parents, not Pedro on the occasional skype-call. He talks to his half-brother, but not about things like these. Why should Pedro care about Hero being in Wellington anyway? To be honest, why should John care?

He works on his art. He meets with the people that have somehow become his friends. He lets Moira invade the private space that is his one-room-flat and they sit together on the floor, sketching each other's faces and hands and feet and bodies. She's the first person he feels comfortable having around since Cora. Maybe it's because they're complete opposites. Finley calls them Ying and Yang. But Finley says a lot of things and John has long learned to not always listen.

  


It's a Thursday evening and they're sitting in his flat, eating Thai take-away. The product of their group project is covering the floor and Indie has just left, excusing herself to see her boyfriend. In all honesty, John knows she's only doing this project with them because Moira convinced her to. Indie doesn't really like him and he assumes it's because he's not as happy and easygoing as everyone else.

Moira doesn't seem to mind. She's stuffing her mouth with noodles and vegetables and keeps talking about their project until she notices he doesn't really listen.

“What's on your mind?”, she asks.

He shrugs. “Uni.”

“Come on John, I know you good enough to tell that this isn't about uni.”

“And you know Indie well enough to tell that she dislikes working with me”, he counters. “Yet you still insisted on a project together.”

“Because you're both good!”

John pulls a grimace and returns his attention to the food. But Moira can't let this go so easily.

“There's nothing wrong with you”, she says. “Indie just doesn't know you well.”

“How would you know?”, John mutters. He's used to people disliking him, avoiding him. It's because he's different, an introvert, an outsider. But then again, Moira seems to have taken a liking to him. She seems to be oblivious to the fact that there is a lot wrong with him.

Moira examines him, then puts down her box of take-away food. “I don't”, she admits. “I just assumed-”

“Not everyone has their life so perfectly sorted out like you, Mo.”

“That's not true. I don't-”

“See? Don't assume things about me, then I won't assume things about you.”

Moira points her fork at him.

“Fine”, she says. “But don't think this is over.”

  


He feels comfortable around Moira. And before he knows it she's gotten under his skin, coaxing the truth out of him. One by one he shares pieces of his past and she shares hers. Stories of jealousy, anxiety, depression, dark times and panic attacks. It scares him, that she gets to know him this well. But she doesn't look at him with pity in her eyes, like so many people did. She just listens and asks the right questions and when he can't speak any more, she continues from her side.

Looking back at it, May is an intense month. In the beginning Mo and him are nothing but two people who just met, studying the same things. On June 1st their eyes meet at lunch over a comment Finley just made and he knows they're thinking the same thing. A smile crosses his lips. Looks like he's finally found a friend again.

  


He's almost forgotten about Hero Duke. He sees her sometimes but she's become just another person in the masses. She might be walking past him and he doesn't even notice. And that's good. Because they have a past that's tinted with darkness and he's not ready yet to tap into that.

Sometimes you can ignore things and let them go. But with this he knows he has to talk about it. Yes, there's been family therapy after the incident and it solved some unresolved tension, but not everything. Pedro and him slowly worked out things but they both found it best to do their own thing and not bother what the other one was doing. With them being so far apart now it worked pretty well. Then there was Claudio who in all honesty wasn't top of his list of people to work things out with. They spoke, briefly, a few times, an apology happened, but nothing more.

And then there was Hero. His biggest regret. He tried so hard not to stumble over his words when he apologised to her the day of the picnic, the day he came back. The last year at school had mostly consisted of friendly greetings and vague half-smiles, but there still was this anxiety every time he saw her, like he was scared she would lash out at him and take back all the forgiveness. But she never would, because she's Hero Duke.

They've never talked, not once, just acted like nothing ever happened and moved on. It helped at first and he came back from his gap year feeling confident, reassured, having a positive outlook on life. He had messed with Hero's life and she'd forgiven. Seeing her back in Wellington messed with his head all over again, bringing up all the problems of the past.

  


He tells Moira about it one Saturday night. The whole thing. His convoluted plan and the mess it made. It's a miracle he hasn't cracked sooner.

Moira just sits there looking at him for a while, remaining silent. He can see she's trying to grasp the story, sort through the different aspects of it.

“That's really messed-up”, she finally admits.

John sighs.

“You know I can't help you with that”, she continues. “That one you have to sort out on your own. Or maybe a therapist?”

“I hate therapists”, John growls.

“Yeah, but it's either you or a professional. You should know what's best for you.”

Silence falls between them.

“What would you do?”, he finally asks, a bit more calm.

Moira curls a strand of hair around her pinkie.

“Talk to Hero”, she says. “Sounds like seeing her again sent you down the spiral.”

“I can't talk to- we don't **talk**. We don't do anything. We both go to the same university and that's it.”

“You're scared of ripping of the bandage.”

And maybe that's the truth. He's scared of hurting Hero again, even if it might be helping him.

 


	6. but I would lay my armor down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Hero make a deal. Maybe they got off on the wrong foot last semester.

Winter break is over way too soon. The evening before she gets on her plane to Wellington again, her mums have a dinner party. And of course the Donaldsons are there, John in tow. He nods at her and she nods back and that's all they exchange. Their parents have long caught on to the fact that they are both attending the same university, but not to the fact that a friendship between John and Hero is practically non-existent.

“So how are you finding Wellington, Hero? John says it's quite windy.”

“Have you been to the Botanic Garden yet, John? Hero could show you around if you'd like.”

“Do you have any classes together?”

Hero tries her best to not make it too awkward, but John isn't much help. He just sits there and barely says anything, shooting her the occasional glance while she tries to keep the conversation up. It's kind of annoying.

  


After dessert she excuses herself to go packing. Of course she already has gathered everything in her suitcase but she can't stand being down there with all the awkwardness and pretty lies. She checks her phone for any new messages from Chris. They have kind of agreed on meeting up when she gets back to Wellington. Whatever that's supposed to mean. But he's not answering her now and it's bugging her more than usual.

Trying to distract herself she sorts through her old clothes. She's been thinking about giving some away. They still fit but not everything is her style any more. There's a lot of dresses she wouldn't give a second look if she saw it in a shop today.

A short knock on the door lets her look up. John appears in the door frame.

“Can I come in?”, he asks.

“Sure.”

For a lack of better options he sits down on the bed.

“I'm sorry”, he says. “My parents kept asking these questions and your mums-”

“It's fine”, she interrupts him. Even though it's not.

“No, it's really weird. We should just tell them-”

“Or you could just help me pretend everything's fine.”

“I'm no good at pretending.”

Hero sighs and stuffs the dress she just pulled out back into the closet.

“I'm sorry, Hero”, he starts. “I just-”

“Stop apologising!”, she snaps, turning to face him. “I'm sick of apologies. It's not like they make anything better.”

He stares at her, unfazed by her sudden outburst of anger.

“I hate that people constantly feel the need to apologise to me”, she continues. “Empty promises of things getting better-”

“I know that feeling.”

She sinks down on the bed, running her fingers through her hair. She never gets this vocal. She's a quiet person who only say nice things and never raises her voice. At least that's what people think. But the truth is she's got a cynical side. She's become a harsher version of herself, ever since that fateful sweet sixteen birthday party. And sometimes she slips up.

“Or maybe we could actually become friends”, she sighs. “Acquaintances at least.”

“We're already acquainted.”

“Are you sure? Because I know barely anything about you.”

John chuckles, then holds out his hand.

“Hi, I'm John.”

She looks at him, an amused smirk on her face.

“Nice to meet you, John. I'm Hero.”

  


They see each other again at the airport the next day. Not quite true. They see each other in the car when Hero's mum drives by the Donaldsons' house to pick up John because- surprise surprise- they're taking the same plane back to Wellington.

“Do you want to sit together?”, the lady at the check-in asks. They look at each other. John just shrugs. “Sure”, Hero says, then turns towards John. “I want the window seat.” He shrugs again. “Okay.”

Her mum kisses her goodbye and even hugs John. He doesn't look to comfortable about it, but doesn't say anything other than “Thanks for the lift Mrs Duke” and “Goodbye”. They walk through security and have to wait a few minutes until boarding, so they sit down in the holding area.

“So you're back for your second semester”, Hero tries to strike up a conversation.

John nods.

“How's it going so far?”

“Good.” John nods. “I think I'm doing okay.”

“First semester is always adjusting. Second semester is where you get comfortable.”

“That's good to know.”

“You're still living on your own?”

“Yeah.”

“What's it like?”

“Good. I don't mind not having people around me constantly. And Mo's over most of the time anyway so-”

“Mo?”

“Yeah, Moira. She's a friend of mine, we have the same classes and everything.”

“Hey, that's great!”

She smiles at him. Progress. That's what it looks like in her eyes.

“Yeah, she actually- She said I should- I mean- I talked to her about-”

The cracking of the loudspeakers interrupts him.

“Good morning passengers, this is the boarding call for flight 13A to Wellington. Regular boarding will begin shortly. Please have your boarding pass and identification ready.”

“That's us”, Hero remarks, rummaging through her leather saddlebag for her ID and boarding pass. John has a pained look on his face but picks up his duffel and gets out his stuff for boarding.

  


“What's wrong?”, she asks as they walk through the airport corridor towards the plane. He doesn't look too happy and she can't quite figure out why that is. He was fine just a minute ago, when they were talking, but now he's at a loss for words.

“Nothing”, he mumbles.

Hero shakes her head and instead of worrying about him greets the stewardess with a friendly smile and starts looking for their seats.

“Let me get that”, John says when she tries to push her tote bag into the overhead compartment. He's much taller than her and can reach the compartment easily, so she lets him and instead sits down in her seat at the window. She loves window seats, loves watching the houses and trees get smaller and smaller as they ascend into the air, over the clouds. Flying might be one of her favourite things.

She turns to look at John who's sat down next to her. He's nervously tapping his foot. Anxious. On a plane. Her mind connects the dots

“Oh my God”, she realises. “You're scared of flying.”

He doesn't answer but from the look on his face she can tell she's right.

“Are you gonna throw up?”, she asks worriedly.

He shakes his head.

“Hey”, she murmurs, putting her hand on his arm. “It's gonna be okay. We'll be totally fine.”

“I know that”, he says, his voice shaking. “Logically nothing's gonna happen. But I really hate flying.”

“Why?”

“Bad experience, I guess.”

“Then why do you keep flying? You know there's a bus going to Wellington, right?”

“My parents bought the ticket. Didn't really get a say in that.”

“Well, you should. Besides, flying isn't that good on the environment.”

“Says the girl who's sitting beside me on a plane.”

“Well, yeah... Okay, let's make a deal. Next time we both go home, we take the bus. Or train. Or rent a car. Ohhh, road-trip!”

She grins at him but he just gives a weak smile. Probably due to the fact that he's scared of flying and they're on a plane that's about to take off.

“Deal?”, she asks and offers him her hand.

“Deal”, he mutters, shaking it.

The plane starts to move into position for take-off and they fasten their seatbelts. On second glance, John looks a bit more relaxed but still anxious. For a moment Hero tries to remind herself that this is the boy who three years ago went beyond measure to ruin his half-brother's reputation. And he's afraid of flying. She kind of pities him for it. But stranger things have happened.

 


	7. your string of lights is still bright to me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Hero have a long and honest conversation.

Hero's right. Nothing bad happens on the flight to Wellington. The second semester is where you get comfortable. And somehow there's something like friendship on the horizon. If it weren't for their past.

It takes him one and a half weeks to pull himself together and call her.

“Hey.” She sounds surprised. Of course. He's calling on a Tuesday evening with no previous interaction or warning.

“Hi, Hero”, he says. “Listen, I was just wondering...”

“Hold on a sec.” She says something to someone else in the room, covering the speaker. A door closes. “Okay, I'm here.”

“Do you- I was wondering if you had time tomorrow? Or somewhere this week?” He's stumbling over the thoughts in his head, not quite sure how to articulate what he wants. “I'd like to talk to you about a few things.”

“Uhm... sure?” Hero doesn't sound so sure. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I'm fine. I just wanted to talk about some stuff. Don't worry.”

“You know when you say that to people and it makes them all the more worried?”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Okay. So, tomorrow?”

  
  


They meet at the top of the cable car the next day after lunch. It's a windy day, very much like the typical Wellington weather, but without rain. Hero, being the nice person she is, has brought cookies. It reminds John of the day he came back home, sitting down on that picnic blanket and immediately being offered cookies from everyone. Everyone was all laughter and smiles, ready to forgive him. That didn't mean that the past was in the past.

They make careful chitchat, wandering along the plants and flowers. He can feel the tension, you could cut it with a knife. It's because he's nervous and she can tell but is too nice to ask.

“I wanted to talk about what happened”, he says, when silence has fallen between them and it's too obvious that Hero's only waiting for him to tell her why she's here. “On your sixteenth birthday, that summer. No excuses, no more apologies, just trying to clear the air.”

“Okay...”

“Because I was fine when I was on my gap year and then I came back here- And turns out I'm not really fine.”

Hero's very quiet for a moment, then points towards a park bench on the side. “Can we sit down for this?”

“Yeah, sure, whatever you want.”

They sit on either sides of the bench and Hero pulls up her knees to her chest, hugging them close. He's seen Moira do the same thing, to comfort herself when she's talking about her most recent panic attacks.

“Can I ask you something?”, she says, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Yeah?”

“What's your diagnosis?”

He hesitates for a moment because he knows what she means but he's not sure how to put it best.

“I had dysthymia. Still have, I guess. Working through it, though.”

“What's dyst- that word?”

“Chronic depression.”

“Oh.”

Her face drops. That's what happens with most people when he tells them about it. They pity him.

“When did you get your diagnosis?”

There are no “I'm sorry”'s from her, just questions that slowly pull the story out of him. She's good at that and he's promised Moira and himself to talk to her about everything, so he does. Tells her how his parents dragged Pedro and himself into therapy after they found out what had happened. How the therapists diagnosed him on their fifth session and proposed psychotherapy. That he had therapy all through their last year of school.

“I started taking antidepressants halfway through it to help. Tolvon. I switched to a different brand when I went on gap year in England.”

“Your parents let you go on a gap year while you were still in therapy?”

“Having Pedro in the same country helped. I was still having therapy sessions via Skype and I also did some group therapy in England. Just being away from home, I got better. So I laid off the antidepressants. It worked all fine. I finished up therapy before I went to Wellington.”

Hero nods along, pulling out the cookies she made and putting them down on the bench between them. But this is not a problem cookies can fix.

“How are you doing now?”, she asks when he doesn't keep talking.

He takes a moment, running his fingers through is hair, letting out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

“Not so great”, he says. “That's why I'm here.”

  
  


To his surprise, Hero doesn't take it personally. His whole speech about how it's not her but the things he did to her, how he's haunted by his past and she might be one of the only people to help with that because he never meant for her to get hurt, that whole speech gets stuck in his throat when she says: “I know. I think it's the same for me.”

He looks at her and he can't help but let out a pathetic sort of cry-laugh, a short “ha”, before turning away, wiping his eyes. He rarely cries and especially not in front of people, but this is a slip up because she's caught him completely off-guard.

“John?”

“Sorry, just something in my eye.”

She gives him a sympathetic smile that tells him she knows he's almost-crying.

“So it's good that we talk about it”, she continues. “Get everything off of our chests. No more pushing aside issues.” She picks up a cookie. “Come on. Deep breath. Take a cookie.”

She sounds all motherly with new strength in her voice, it's kind of adorable. John lets out another laugh and this time it's real, not tinged with almost-tears, because Hero's being surprisingly positive about it and makes it easy to talk and she's brought cookies that taste all chocolatey goodness. She makes him feel like it's going to get better.

  
  


“I messed up. I never thought people would actually believe that about you. I would never believe that about you if I heard something like that.”

  
  


“I was hurt, of course. I know it wasn't intentional but that doesn't make it hurt less.”

  
  


“If I could go back now, I would try and stop myself. I was a horrible person and I didn't even know why. People noticed and I didn't listen.”

  
  


“There was a moment where I could've just slapped everyone. Claud, Pedro, you... But then I realised that I would be just as bad if I did. I screamed into pillows a lot.”

“Would you want to slap me right now?” “No.”

  
  


“I mean, how could I even get that kind of idea? Sometimes I shudder at the darkness of my soul back then. The things I could've done...”

  
  


“But it's good to see you change. I mean, who you are is not what you did. Seeing you at art lab I honestly believed you were doing better. You were a person I'd like to get to know”

  
  


“I had a bad day that party. Parties do that to me, I guess. Bring back the old memories.”

  
  


“I want to see you getting better. I want us to move on from this and not let it be another ghost of the past.”

  
  


They talk back and forth like that without really watching the time and they only realise they've been outside for way too long when Hero starts complaining about the cold.

“Actually I should get going”, she says with a look at her phone.

John nods. “Yeah, it's gonna get dark soon.”

They both get up from the bench, their legs tingling from the sensation of finally being in use after hours. Hero straightens her coat and then smiles up at him.

“Thank you”, she says. “I'm really glad we did this.”

And before he knows it she's pulled him down into a hug. He wraps his arms around her but she's so tiny and he's all limbs, so it's kind of awkward. They both let go after just a second.

“You're taking down the cable car as well?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay then, let's go.”

  
  


It starts to rain when they walk towards the station. Not a moment too soon. They chat a bit about what classes they are taking and what they are planning on doing on the next weekend but the cable car only takes five minutes down, so it's barely anything.

“I'll see you around then?”, Hero asks as they get out at the Lambton Quay Station.

“I guess so.”

“John.” She puts her hand on his arm, like she did on the plane to calm him. “I really hope you get better, okay? Let me know if there's anything I can help you with.”

“Okay.” He tries a smile. It doesn't feel so far-fetched. It's like a heavy burden has just been lifted from his chest and he can finally breathe again, freely, not worrying about the past. “You too.” Even though he doesn't really know what Hero Duke would need his help with. But she smiles back at him, so it must be the right thing to say.

When they hug goodbye it doesn't feel as awkward as the first time.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm on fire right now. Not literally, figuratively. I hope I did the talk justice. I know I only hinted at parts of it, but it would've been a really long chapter if I'd written through everything. Please let me know if it was okay because this feels like a crucial part.


	8. I know something now I didn't before

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hero and her friends have a pizza party and an interrogation

It feels good to finally have an honest conversation about it. To know his side of the story, about his issues and problems, but also to express how she felt and how his actions affected her. She's forgiven him before but this time it feels like it. When she hugs him goodbye it's genuine. She can see the relief in his eyes, in his smile. She can look at him more easily now, even though she's still unsure about how things are going to change, if she'll see him more often or if they're back to just casual greetings in university hallways. There's no way to tell.

She doesn't have time to worry for long as her phone buzzes. “Hey, where you at?” “Lambton Quai.” “Okay, I'll come pick you up.” She sits down inside the station because it's still raining outside. That's another problem she has right now. Well, not problem exactly but something that's occupying her mind a lot. Chris.

 

  


Like her, Chris Hall started studying at Massey last year and like her he took on Visual Communication Design. He's a very sincere and honest person and she loves talking to him, loves his intellect and the discussions she has with him. He's from Wellington and lives in Aro Valley in one of those nice colonial style houses. She's been there more than often, working on projects or just visiting, but also on the occasional house party he throws.

And that's what's bugging her about Chris. She can never spend more than half an hour at a party with him because parties and alcohol turn him into an annoying douchebag, if she's being honest about it. But she likes sober Chris, very sincerely, and she loves spending time with him, talking.

Because that's all they do right now. She knows people are gossiping behind their backs, obviously, their timetables overlap and they are seen together a lot. She's a pretty girl and he's a handsome boy. Of course they ought to be together. But they're not.

Yet when it's 6 PM on a Wednesday afternoon and it's raining and she sends him a text, he'll come and pick her up in his car so she can get home without getting soaked. Maybe they'll get something to eat on the way and sit in the kitchen of her shared apartment, all four girls and Chris, eating take-away. Or his mother will be home early from work and have cooked so he'll invite her over. The Halls love her.

  


Turns out it's pizza night. They all gather round the kitchen table, Joanna and Ella in their sweatpants because they didn't escape the rain and took an unplanned shower. Hero and Chris have picked up three boxes of pizza and they're basically covering the whole table.

“This is the best”, Ella mumbles, her mouth stuffed with salami pizza.

“You should come by more often”, Jo agrees, looking pointedly at Chris. “With pizza.”

He grins and wipes his mouth with a napkin. Hero shoots him a sideway glance. He doesn't come around her apartment often and he looks kind of out of place here. When he turns to look at her she quickly picks up another slice of vegetable pizza.

The apartment door opens and someone drops their bag in the hallway. “Is that-” A face with flushed cheeks and a maroon beanie appears in the doorway. “Pizza!” Everybody laughs and after some more rumbling from the hallway the fourth member of their shared apartment, Mei, hops into the kitchen. “Whoever bought pizza, I love you forever!” Hero and Chris both raise their hand. “Thankyouthankyouthankyou!” Mei nearly crushes them in a double hug before grabbing a slice and dropping down on the last empty chair, humming contently.

  


“So how'd your date go?”, Ella asks after a moment of silence that is only filled with eating noises, looking at Hero.

Hero shoots a quick glance at Chris again.

“Oh, that- That wasn't a date”, she says. “That was just a friendly meet-up of sorts.”

“Who'd you meet?”, Chris asks.

“Someone I know from school.”

“Ah.”

“And?”, Ella inquires again.

“It was nice”, Hero says because she doesn't want to get too specific. “We went to the botanic gardens and did a bit of catching up. Nothing too special.”

“Do we get to meet him?”, Jo chimes in.

Hero rolls her eyes.

“What's his name?”, Chris asks.

“Is he cute?”, Mei mumbles through her second piece of pizza. She's a fast eater.

“Oh my God!”, Hero exclaims. “I swear I feel like Sandy in Grease! Stop asking questions, okay? His name's John and he's not cute or anywhere in the vicinity of cute. He's an old acquaintance I ran into last semester and we finally took some time to catch up, so that's that.”

Everybody's quiet for a second and then starts laughing simultaneously because they've never witnessed Hero Duke loose her nerve.

Hero just shakes her head and gets up to get more fizz from the fridge.

  


Later that night after Chris has left and Hero's in her room with a cup of tea and some leftover cookies, a knock comes on her door. “Come in!” She turns around in her desk chair. It's Mei with a cup of tea herself. She often comes by in the evenings to have a chat, because she's so busy all day they barely get to see each other.

“Hey”, she says with a smile, sitting down on Hero's bed. “Sorry about dinner, I didn't want to upset you.”

“No, it's fine”, Hero reassures her. “How was your day?”

“Stressful”, Mei sighs. “Structural Systems all day. It's- complex, to say the least.”

Hero laughs. She barely understands anything Mei says when she talks about her studies (Sustainable Engineering Systems) but it sounds hard, so Hero always tries to make her feel appreciated for what she does. Mei runs her fingers through her bob and smiles back at her.

“Seriously though”, she says. “You wanna talk about John?”

He had called the night before when they were in the middle of cooking dinner, so Hero had to tell Mei about him. It's not easy keeping secrets with such close friends surrounding you. And some days it's really annoying.

“There's nothing to talk about”, Hero replies decidedly. “We talked things over and we both feel better about it now.”

Mei sips her tea and examines her with squinted eyes.

“It's not my story to tell”, Hero says. “I told him how I felt about things and he told me how he felt about things-”

“Did he tell you how he felt about you?”

“Mei, come on. He ruined my sweet sixteen and messed with my life. How does that scream potential crush to you?”

“You're right, you're right. I'm sorry. Serious topic. So what about Chris?”

“Mei!”

She wishes she had a cushion to throw at her best friend but that would spill all the tea on her bed and she wouldn't want that. So instead she makes a point of not telling anything by picking up her cup of tea. They have a stare-off over the rims of their cups before Mei finally gives up and dives into more casual and neutral conversation topics.

“So you're cousin's coming over this weekend?”

“Yeah. They just got to Auckland shortly after I left, so we basically missed each other by a few days.”

“Doesn't her family live in Australia?”

“Just her parents. They're visiting Ben's parents now and my family as well.”

“Well, I can't wait to meet them.”

“I can't wait to see them either.”

  


She hasn't seen Bea and Ben since Christmas when the whole family flew halfway across the globe to experience winter and Christmas in Edinburgh. They skype pretty regularly but it's still a different thing to see them both in person. Hero has lots of friends in Wellington, but none as close as Bea and Ben. She would've gone to Edinburgh herself to study there but Massey had the perfect programme and had already accepted her, so she stayed.

She knows Wellington has done her good, has helped her find her independence away from home. That doesn't mean she doesn't miss her friends. Meg's staying in Auckland, as is Ursula, although the latter is currently on a 6-month internship in America. Balthazar is off in England with his band and boyfriend, but he's not one for regular contact, so they only exchange messages once in a while via Facebook. There are pictures of all of them on her wall in her Wellington room and sometimes she lies on her bed and just remembers them.

But now Bea and Ben are coming for a visit, a whole week, and she'll let them stay in her room and sleep over on Mei's couch because that's how nice of a person she is. She'll show them around the campus and introduce them to her friends and skip classes to spend time with them. It'll be great, she tells herself. Like old times. Except everything around them has changed.

 


	9. it was the night things changed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some familiar faces show up in Wellington.

Moira is the first to know. He shows up at her place in Te Aro right afterwards. She grins at him and tackles him in a hug, like only Moira would do. “I'm so proud of you”, she says. “Let's go out, Aunty Mena's, my treat. Come on.” They take the ten minute walk by foot, arms linked, sharing one umbrella. John doesn't mind with Moira. She makes it feel like it's nothing, like it's totally normal that they do this.

They have curry noodles and deep fried mushrooms and spring rolls until they're stuffed. Mo doesn't ask questions, probably because he looks happy and that's all that counts right now. Instead she happily chats about how her photography project is coming along and how annoying Finley is being about it.

“Why are we even friends with Finley?”, John asks after a while.

Moira tilts her head and then after a pause replies: “Because despite all her annoying qualities which include constant talking and bragging about photography, she's still lovable. She always carries around schmogle even though she hates the raisins but knows we'll eat them.”

John laughs. “True.”

“And if you ask her she can show you all the tricks with a camera.”

“She knows her shit.”

“She does”, Mo agrees. “Plus, she's pretty hot, don't you think?”

He raises his eyebrows.

“Anything I should know?”

“What? I can appreciate the aesthetic of people around me.”, Moira protests.

“Yeah, sure.”

John takes a sip from his water and his mind can't help but wander to the thought of Moira and Finley, together. He clears his throat and glances outside.

“I'm not gay”, Moira says. “That's what you were wondering, weren't you?”

“Well, it's certainly not a topic we ever discussed.”

“I'm bisexual.”

“Okay.”

There's a pause between them where they just stare at each other.

“You're not surprised?”, Mo finally asks.

John shrugs.

“You're bi, so what?”, he replies. “Doesn't make you a different person.”

Her mouth falls open and it dawns on him that she might have never had a reaction like this. Not all parents are as open as his, who didn't bat an eyelash when Pedro came out to them.

“You're okay?”, he asks.

Mo laughs and drops her head in her hands.

“Yeah.”

  
  


The weekend comes with something more of a surprise. He's out shopping for groceries which he is really bad at because when Moira's over they mostly get take-away or go to her place where someone else is always cooking. Plus he's not a good cook in general. But he has to eat something and Mo's with her family for the weekend, so he decides on cooking. Starting simple. Pasta with some pre-made sauce. He'll have to learn eventually.

He's just browsing the aisles when there's shouting and laughing behind him. Probably high school kids goofing around. He turns around briefly just to catch a glimpse of Benedick Hobbes pushing a squealing Beatrice Duke past the aisle in a shopping cart with alarming speed. John blinks. Blinks again. Then an embarassed-looking Hero Duke walks past. Now it all makes sense. He decides to turn back to his pasta but Hero has seen him and waves. So he waves back. She looks into the direction Ben and Bea drove off and then makes a turn into the aisle John's in.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

“I see you're cousin's visiting?”

“Yeah. Ben and her are over for a week.”

“Cool.”

“So you're shopping for groceries?”

“Yeah.” Obviously, he wants to add. But that would come out wrong. “I've decided to give cooking another try.”

“Oh.” She smirks and raises her eyebrows. “What're you cooking?”

“Pasta”, he replies sheepishly.

With much noise and a nearly-accident of crashing into a wall Ben, Bea and the shopping cart show up at the other end of the aisle.

“There she is!”, Bea shouts and Ben can barely stop the cart. They turn into the aisle, coming to halt next to them.

“Hey, John!”, Ben exclaims, pulling John into a hug. “Fancy seeing you here.”

Bea climbs out of the cart, her legs shaking. She gives John a smile but doesn't instigate a hug like her boyfriend. Of course. She still hasn't completely forgiven him. Beatrice Duke doesn't forgive as easily as her cousin.

John clears his throat. “Hi.” “Hi.”

“You're at Massey too, right?”, Ben says. “Hero mentioned something like that. How's it going?”

“Good”, John replies. The usual spiel. “First year is mostly just introduction, so I'm learning a lot of new stuff.”

“What are you studying?”, Bea asks. At least she's trying to be nice.

“Fine Arts.”

“Ah. Cool.”

An awkward silence falls between them.

“Hey, what are you doing tonight?”, Ben says, breaking it.

John briefly considers making something up but the truth is he'll probably just spend his night at home, listening to music and practising his watercolour skills.

“No plans really.”

“You should come by our place- I mean, Hero's place.”

“I'm having a few friends over”, Hero explains. “We're gonna cook and maybe play some board games.”

“Okay.”

“So you'll come?”, Ben asks, a big grin on his face.

“Yeah, sure. Why not?”

  
  


He's not one for social events. But he can't disappoint Hero again and if it gets really bad he hopes she'll understand. At least that's his guess after their talk on Wednesday. So instead of backing out last minute he puts a bottle of wine he got at the supermarket after meeting them into his messenger bag, dresses somewhat nice and comfortable and gets on his bike.

He's remembered the way to Hero's. It's only a fifteen minute drive and luckily tonight it doesn't look like it's gonna rain. He's nervous, to say the least, when he gets there. What if Hero's friends don't like him? What if he'll just sit in the corner and talk to no-one like usual? What if old John comes out again? Before he can decide otherwise he presses the doorbell for the third-floor apartment.

Someone answers the intercom but he can't really understand anything so he just says his name and shortly after the door clicks open. He enters the hallway and walks up the stairwell. An apartment door opens on the top floor and happy chatter fills the hall.

“We're up here!”

He thought so. Taking a deep breath he climbs the last few steps to be greeted by Hero in a oversized black-and-white sweater and black leggings.

“Hi”, she says with a smile, stretching out her arms to hug him. He obliges. Behind her an asian-looking girl with short black hair is leaning in the door frame. John clears his throat and lets go of Hero.

“Thanks for inviting me”, he says. “I actually brought some wine...” He pulls the bottle out of his bag. “Not sure if you drink wine-”

“Occasionally.” Hero takes the bottle and examines it. The girl behind her flicks her tongue, probably to get her attention.

“Oh, sorry. John, this is Mei, my flatmate. Mei, John.”

“Nice to meet you.”

They shake hands. Then Mei takes the bottle from Hero and disappears into the apartment.

“Sorry, my flatmates are a bit... curious”, Hero says in a hushed tone. “Please don't let them intimidate you. You'll meet Joanna and Ella in a second- Well, come on in first.”

  
  


He takes off his shoes and drops his bag down by the coat rack in the hallway before following Hero into the kitchen. There are a lot of people in there and most of them he doesn't know. In fact, he only knows Ben and Bea and Hero. It's intimidating to say the least.

Hero makes and effort of introducing him to her flatmates and friends, but he's rubbish at remembering names so while everyone knows his name he's still lost. Luckily Ben quickly shows up next to him, pulling him into a conversation. They're the only guys at this get-together or whatever you want to call it. Hero apologises for it profusely and adds something about someone called Chris who wanted to come but had previous engagements.

The kitchen is connected to what appears to be a living / dining room and Ben drags him out there to sit down on a sofa that looks way too old to be new. John examines the paintings on the wall but can't tell whether they're bought or originals. The apartment feels more like a house than just an apartment, especially with the high ceilings and big windows. The appropriate response would probably be to compliment Hero on the choice of living quarters but she's in the kitchen preparing dinner with her flatmates.

“So, how are you doing?”, Ben asks. “Haven't seen you in a while...”

“I'm good”, John admits. “Getting better. Definitely.”

Outside of his family, only a handful of people know that he did therapy after the incident. Cora, Moira, Hero. And Ben. As strange as it sounds, Ben was the first person to open up to him, to try and understand him after he came back home. John had always pitched him as nothing more than a easygoing, joking-around kinda guy. But there was a serious side to him and they got along surprisingly well.

“Hero said you had a talk this week?”

“Wednesday, yeah. It was probably long overdue.”

“Well, it's good to see you two getting along”, Ben states. “I was wondering about that because earlier this year Hero told us that she'd met you and then nothing. Nada. It was like you didn't exist.”

“I never felt- I just didn't think she'd want that. We both have our own lives.”

“ **I** think you'd potentially be really good friends.”

John raises his eyebrows at him.

“Really?”

“You'd be surprised.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Clearly my plans of making 5 chapters per semester aren't going to work. So bear with me, this might take a bit longer but I want to indulge in the story and make it worth it.


	10. didn't they tell us don't rush into things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hero wakes up way too early and spends a day with Ben.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm terribly sorry for the time it's taken for this chapter to be finished! I've been quite busy with uni recently and haven't really been motivated to write.  
> Trying to move this story forward but at the moment I'm lingering around a bit to establish the beginnings of what might be John and Hero's friendship.

They are cooking actual dinner and there's way to many people and opinions about it in the kitchen. Bea and Ella are definitely the loudest although Joanna, Meredith and Hero know the best how to cook and Cori and Mei are just giggling in the corner and not really helping. Ben has evacuated from the kitchen half an hour ago with John, who actually came.

It's still strange to her but she's not opposed to having him there. Ben and him seem to get along fine because there's actual laughter from the living room and when she sneaks a look she can see the two boys sitting on one of the second-hand sofas. They look more like men, if she's being honest. Ben finally seems to be able to have his wild hair under control and John actually appears comfortable in his lanky body. Not that he didn't before, she just didn't notice is all.

“He's cute”, Mei whispers behind her back.

Hero just shakes her head and turns back to the Thai curry they're cooking. Cute wouldn't be her choice of words to describe John Donaldson. She doesn't have a choice of words to describe John. Or she never thought about describing him. Tall, inconspicuous, nondescript words like that fit what she has thought of him before.

“Not so much chili!”, she shouts and pulls the mill from Meredith's hand before it's too late. “Sorry, but the last time we had to run to the supermarket to get more milk and I won't let that happen again.”

She checks the rice and pulls it off the stove before it burns.

“Ella, Bea, get out some plates, please?”

She doesn't even know why she's worrying so much about this dinner being perfect. It's just dinner, with her friends.

  
  


Turns out her worries were for nothing. The curry tastes great. The rice isn't burned or overcooked. The wine John brought goes along well with the food. It's enough for everyone and there's happy chatter instead of awkward silence.

It's kind of comforting to see her friends, old and new, get along so well. She watches them for most of the time, happily listening to their stories. They haven't even tried to fit everyone at their dining table, it only has room for six. Instead they sit on the floor with their plates in their hands. Only Ben and Bea have hogged the whole sofa.

They're telling stories of their gap year and life in Edinburgh. Ella and Joanna chip in with funny anecdotes of their flat life. Cori makes googly eyes at John but he's not noticing because Mei has pulled him into a conversation that Hero doesn't even follow along any more.

They never get out the board games. There are to many stories to tell, to many things to discuss. They get out a second bottle of wine and John helps Joanna and her wash the dishes and clean the kitchen.

  
  


It's one in the morning when Meredith finally decides to leave, taking a slightly tipsy Cori with her, so John offers to accompany them. It reminds Hero of the night they met at the party. Maybe that's just how he is, accompanying people home to make sure they get there safely. Maybe he's a friend you can count on.

She hugs him goodbye at the door with an “It was nice to have you here” which is nothing but the truth.

“Thanks for having me”, he replies. “You have a nice apartment. And the curry was really good. Better than the pasta I would've made.”

She laughs.

“We'll have to see about that”, she says. “Maybe I'll come by at your place someday and then you'll have to cook.”

“Sure.” He grins at her. Like it's another deal. One for going to Auckland by anything but plane. One for cooking at his place.

“Okay. See you.” She touches his arm for a brief second with a smile on her face. He nods at her and then follows Meredith and Cori down the stairs. The last thing she hears is Cori's giggle, then the front door falls shut.

  
  


They all sleep in the next day. Well, all except Hero. She slips out of Mei's room and gets dressed in the bathroom, trying to wash the tiredness from her eyes. It's been a short night for her, mostly because she doesn't sleep well with other people in the room. They move around and make noises in their sleep and Hero's a light sleeper.

She puts on her winter coat and a hat, grabbing her keys and quietly closing the apartment door behind herself. When she hasn't slept well, fresh air is often a good way to make her feel better. She walks along the streets of her neighbourhood, hands in her pockets, watching the people. She'll be spending the day with Ben today, because Bea wants to catch up with a few old school friends and that isn't really interesting for either Hero or Ben.

In all honesty, she's happy about it. Ben and her have grown a lot closer ever since he started dating her cousin. Considering the fact that ever since Leo took the side of her slut-shaming ex-boyfriend over hers, things haven't been that great between them and she's sort of adopted Ben as her brother-figure. He's funny and supportive and unlike her real brother he believed her back then. Leo and her on the other hand don't talk very often. She tries to be civil when they're both home at the same time, like at Easter or Christmas, but they mostly lead their own lives and don't cross paths very often.

  
  


When she gets back to her apartment, the French Bakery downstairs is open. A small bell rings when she enters. It's both a café and a bakery and she loves it to death. The staff already knows her from all her visits, as she often comes there when she doesn't have the time to bake herself. They also bake amazing bread and on a Saturday like this, it's what Hero needs in the morning.

“Bonjour”, she greets the wife of the owner who's working the counter today.

“Ah, ma petite héroine!”, Madame Fournier exclaims. “Ça va?”

“Ça va.” Hero smiles at her nickname and examines the display for a moment. “Six croissants, deux pain du chocolat et une boule, s'il vous plaît.”

Madame Fournier starts packing her the croissants and the bread.

“Ce cera tout?”

“Ce cera tout.”

They always do this, chatting in French. Hero's been taking French in high school but nowadays she doesn't really have time for it any more, so it's getting a bit rusty. But Madame Fournier has been patient with her and Hero's able to order anything off the menu and buy things in the bakery in French, so at least she's not too bad at it. They switch to English when it gets too complicated. Like now.

“We have a job opening”, Madame Fournier says while taking the money, pointing at the small info poster hanging in the window. “For waiting tables. You should consider it. You're here so often anyway.”

Hero examines the poster.

“How much do you pay?”, she asks.

“For you? 18 dollars per hour.”

It's a good pay for waiting tables. And Hero's been meaning to get a job for a while now, not wanting to depend on her parents too much.

“I'll think about it.”, she says, even though her mind is almost made-up.

“Don't think about it too long or the job might be gone.” Madame Fournier winks at her and gives her the change.

“Merci, Madame.”

“Au revoir, mademoiselle.”

“Au revoir.”

  
  


When she gets up to the apartment, only Ella is up in the kitchen, cleaning up the mess from last night. It's not much, Joanna and Hero took care of most of it the night before, but they all like a clean kitchen.

“Good morning”, Hero sing-songs, dropping the paper bags with the bakery goods on the kitchen counter. “I got croissants for breakfast.”

“You're an angel, you know that?”

Hero just smiles at the compliment and starts setting the dining table for breakfast. They're only six now, so the table won't be too crowded. It smells of fresh bakery goods and coffee which Ella is making.

“Don't forget the tea”, Hero reminds her. “English Breakfast. Only two minutes.” It's the one blend Bea and Ben could agree on. They don't agree on anything else, regarding tea. Milk, sugar, blends, all different. Ben doesn't even acknowledge herbal tea as a tea. It's only fun to hear them bickering for so long, but Hero draws the line at the tea argument, every morning.

“How can they even get along with so much disagreeing?”, Ella asks.

“They wouldn't be Bea and Ben without it”, Hero replies with a smile, leaning against the kitchen counter and glancing out of the window. “Besides, if they agree on something they're a force to be reckoned with.”

  
  


The force that is to be reckoned with wakes up soon enough but they're more of a couple of grumpy sleepy people until they've had their tea. Jo and Mei join them and they have breakfast in the living room, with fresh bakery goods and jam they made last summer.

Outside has clouded over and rain is rapping against the windows but they make the best of it with laughter and music from Jo's old record player. It's a lazy Saturday morning and Bea, who is the only one who actually has to leave the house today, is very deliberately pulling the length of the breakfast until Hero finally decides to clear the table before they slip into lunch without having accomplished anything.

  
  


Ben and Hero shove Bea with her tote bag, jacket and umbrella out the door before flopping down on Hero's bed to make plans for the day.

“How do you feel about museums?”

“Eh. Unless it's something really interesting. You know I'm not the artsy type.”

Hero pulls up her laptop to check what's going on today. Ben and Bea only got here a few days ago so they haven't really been much around the city yet.

“Have you been to Te Papa yet?”, she asks.

“I think I went with my parents when I was like ten.”

“They have some really interesting stuff there.”

“Nah...”

“There's a Lord of the Rings exhibition right now.”

“Never mind, let's go, I changed my mind!”

Ben jumps up and grabs his backpack. Hero grins to herself. That was quicker than she thought. In all honesty, she probably wouldn't have tried to lure Ben into a museum if it weren't for the ghastly weather. She shuts down her laptop and grabs a cardigan from her dresser.

“Bea's gonna be so jealous when she hears this!”, Ben shouts from the hallway, already getting into his shoes.

Hero picks up her phone which she accidentally left in the room last night and checks for messages. There's three from Chris, asking for her plans on Saturday night. She's not so sure about that. She doesn't want another big night out that will only end with a drunk Chris and disappointment all round. So she doesn't reply instantly, instead checks the fourth message. It's from John.

_Hey. Ben said you two are hanging out today and asked my to come over. Just wanted to check if that's okay with you. - John_

She smiles and shakes her head.

“Ben?”

“Yeah?”

Her cousin's boyfriend sticks his head into the room.

“You invited John over?”

“Uhm... Yeah... Might have... Sorry?”

Hero considers the situation at hand for a minute. She'd be more opposed to the idea if it were alone-time with Bea that John'd be crashing. But the combination of a day at a museum with Ben and John actually sounds fun.

_We're heading to Te Papa now. Meet you there? - Hero_


	11. you go talk to your friends, talk to my friends, talk to me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A visit to the museum and the opening of an art gallery

He's running late so he texts Hero to already go in. He'll find them somehow. If it weren't for Ben he wouldn't even have considered spending a day at the museum with them. But with Bea out of the picture (not that he dislikes Bea, but she's a bit intimidating and does not seem to approve of him) and Hero's okay, he surprisingly has plans for this rainy Saturday.

He briefly thinks of taking the bus but then decides to put on a coat, brace the weather and ride the bike down to the museum. It's not pouring with rain, so he wouldn't get drenched, but it's not exactly nice weather for taking the bike either. However his therapists, even though he isn't seeing her any more, recommended daily physical exercise. Which makes him the strange boy that rides his bike through town every day, never mind the weather.

  
  


His hair and the collar of his sweater and his pants are wet when he gets there. Not so much that it's uncomfortable but it's still visible and he curses himself for underestimating the rain. When he checks his phone, there's a new message from Hero, five minutes ago.

_We're in the LotR exhibition. Ben won't let me leave. Help! - Hero_

Should've guessed as much. John drops off his coat at the cloakroom and then goes for a search for Ben and Hero. He has never read 'The Lord of the Rings' but he's watched the films and he's read 'The Hobbit' when he was younger, so he knows a bit about it. Fantasy isn't really his genre of choice though.

The exhibition is well-visited and he has to look around before he finds Hero checking out something that looks like costume designs, Ben nowhere to be seen. John hesitates for a moment, not wanting to startle Hero, but her eyes wander and she spots him before he can think of a way to approach her. Her face breaks into a smile and she gives him a small wave.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

“You got home okay?”

“Yes. Your friends are quite... interesting.”

Hero smirks.

“Cori's actually a really sweet girl”, she says. “She just gets drunk too easily. We always have to keep an eye out for her at parties.”

“Figures. Hey, where's Ben?”

“Checking out orcs.”

Hero points over to a crowd of people watching an animatronic orc.

“I can't get him to leave though”, Hero adds, sighing. “There's so much to see here but apparently orcs are the most interesting thing in this museum.”

  
  


Together they manage to convince Ben to check out the other exhibitions and the actual museum. He's grumpy for a few minutes but when they get to the Natural History part of the museum and he sees the dinosaurs, he's sold.

They walk around, trying out the different interactive displays and completely forgetting time. It feels like they're children again. John is mostly intrigued by the variety of stuffed animals they have on display and the thought of coming back here on a quiet day to sketch them. When he mentions the thought to Hero, she smirks.

“Oh, you will definitely be doing that”, she says. “There are a few lecturers who bring their drawing lessons here. It's either animals or machinery.”

She's more interested in the actual art that is on display in the museum and Ben and John often have to look for her because she's wandered off to look at some Maori statues while the guys marvel over the colossal squid which is 4.2 metres long and the largest known specimen.

“I don't know”, she says. “Dead animals aren't really my field of interest.”

John learns that she became a vegetarian when she moved to Wellington. He mentions Moira, who's a vegan and she asks more questions than he can answer.

“Maybe you two should just meet without me and have a talk”, he jokes.

“Yeah”, she says. “Maybe we should.”

She's changed. He slowly begins to notice. She's still her friendly and nice self on the outside, but beneath is a more snarky and harsh person. It catches him off-guard, like when she disagrees with Ben in a way he'd only expect from Bea or pulls out her phone to check the message she just got and then shoves it back into the pocket of her cardigan without answering. But then she turns around, notices him watching her and puts on a smile.

“Come on, let's go.”

  
  


He sees her again on campus on Tuesday. She's showing around her cousin and Ben when he spots her through the hallway window while waiting for Moira to get ready.

“Oh look, it's your mystery girl.” Finley leans up against the window next to him.

He wants to give a snarky reply but for the sake of Mo he doesn't.

“Her name's Hero”, he says. “We went to school together.”

Finley huffs.

“You got a crush on her or something?”, she asks.

John shakes his head.

“I don't have crushes”, he says. “I'm not capable of feeling love.”

Finley bursts out into laughter but stops when she sees him stone-faced.

“You were kidding, right?”

“Yeah, totally.” John fakes a grin. “That was a joke.”

Finley looks relieved and lets out another short laugh. She's not cut to hear the harsh truth about him yet. He doesn't trust her enough for that.

“You have a strange kind of humour, John Donaldson.”, she says.

He wants to correct her right there but the fact remains that on paper he's John Donaldson. He had to take on that name after his father and Ann took him in, after all the legal work went down. His mother's maiden name is nothing but a memory of the past that he clings to and that only a few people know of.

Before he can say anything though, Moira's out of the classroom and walking up to them.

“Hey, I'm ready”, she says, coughing. She's had a bad cold for over a week now. “Sorry it took so long. What were you talking about?”

“Just joking around”, Finley replies, maybe a little too quickly. Moira gives John a strange look but he just shrugs.

“Lunch, then?”

“Yeah.”

  
  


They're at an art gallery opening a few weeks later because one of their lectures made it sound really interesting. John has found that Finley is actually fun to be around if you get to her level or snark. She reminds him of Cora in that way. He's briefly thought of introducing the two but then he'd remembered that the last time he actually spoke to Cora was eight months ago right before he set off to Wellington. Since then only brief texts and the occasional e-mail.

Moira's chatting with some artists that have their art shown in the gallery. Sometimes John admires her for that, how easily she can just talk to people and make acquaintances. But then he remembers what she told him, that she's come a long way from the shy little girl she used to be. And he wonders how much he's changed. He can't see it in himself but maybe other people can.

“Three o'clock”, Finley mutters. John turns to his right and sees Hero strolling around the gallery, accompanied by that guy from the party. Probably her boyfriend but John's not one to make assumptions. He turns back to Finley and shrugs.

“You're not gonna go say hi?”, she asks with a smirk.

“If you're so interested, why don't you go say hello?”, John replies sarcastically.

Finley let's out a short laugh and then saunters over to Hero and her friend. John can't hear what they're saying but he can see Hero looking surprised, then looking over at him, smiling and waving. He awkwardly raises his hand but really he just wants to just turn around and run.

  
  


“Hey.” Moira steps up next to him, apparently having gotten the contacts she's been looking for and no longer in need of chatting to random artists. “Where's Fin?”

“Over there embarrassing me”, John says, nodding to Finley who's happily chatting with Hero. “Apparently she doesn't understand sarcasm.”

This is Finley's cue to lead Hero and her friend over to where John and Moira are standing. Hero seems clearly amused by the whole situation, smiling up at them. Luckily before she can say anything, Moira leans in to offer her hand.

“Hi, I'm Moira”, she says with a smile. “You must be Hero. John's mentioned you a few times. ”

“Oh, you're Moira! It's so lovely to meet you.”

They shake hands, a custom that John wasn't even aware is still in style. Then Hero introduces them to her friend, Chris, and there's a round of casual chit-chat and asking about what everyone is studying and how they're liking Wellington. It's not exactly John's favourite pastime. He stays quiet mostly, but only because he's lucky to have Mo and Finley with him who are always happy to be talking. Besides, he wouldn't really know what to say. He never does in group conversations.

He watches Moira and Hero enthuse about vegetarian and vegan cooking, a thing he never thought he'd actually witness. Two girls that are just so quintessentially good and nice, he should've known they'd get along. They exchange phone numbers before he knows it and hug goodbye.

  
  


“Well, that was quick”, John remarks sarcastically. Moira lightly hits him on the arm.

“Why haven't you introduced us before?”, she complains. “She's such a lovely girl.”

“Yeah.” John raises one eyebrow. “Practically perfect in every way.”

His remark is dripping with sarcasm. He doesn't mean it offensively but he can't help but think of the heaps of people that categorise in good and evil, with Hero ranking as the perfect example of what is good and right in the world and him- he might not be evil but he's certainly not good either.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> People have been asking when I update. I can't really tell for sure. It's irregular. I haven't pre-written anything. I post as I write and sometimes I have a lot on my hands so I don't have the time to write. Sorry this is moving along quite slowly - it's all about setting the scene and getting into the story for me. So it might take a while.


	12. but tonight you'll live it all again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are changing in Hero's life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas everyone! You weren't expecting another chapter now, were you? I'm on a roll right now, so that's why this is happening.
> 
> I have to give out a small trigger warning for this chapter, because it might be for some people. In the second to last paragraph of the chapter there's a mention of drugs and a hint at drug overdose. I thought it might be safe to point this out beforehand. Don't want anyone triggered on Christmas Day.

As the most surprising part of 2017 she becomes friends with John Donaldson and Moira Garland. Somewhere between cooking sessions at Moira's house (which she shares with five other people), hikes around the Wellington area (always accompanied by several cameras and sketch pads), visits to museums and art galleries, watching DVDs at John's flat and Moira and him coming over to get coffee at the bakery Hero works at, they become friends.

Mostly it's the three of them hanging out together, a very strange dynamic indeed. Moira and John seem quite close and have their inside-jokes but sometimes the two girls drift off into topics that make John roll his eyes and try and leave the room if he has the chance. Or on the occasion they share funny stories from school which has Hero and John dropping names left and right while Moira just sits there laughing at anecdotes from that Chemistry class the two had together. Mr. Clark certainly had a knack at blowing things up.

  
  


She tries not to think too much about it. It works pretty well, up until she has a Skype call with Beatrice and just tells her about her week, mentioning something funny John said, talking about how they experimented in vegan cake baking. Bea's eyebrows furrow.

“You two seem awfully friendly”, she remarks.

Hero is a bit taken aback by that comment and takes a moment to consider what to say.

“Well, we're friends”, she finally says. “What's wrong with that?”

“Nothing. I just find it strange that of all people you befriend John Donaldson.”

“Really Bea? That sounds awfully hypocritical to me.” There's an acrimony in Hero's voice that wasn't there before. Her cousin throws up her hands in defence.

“All I'm saying is that three years ago the same guy hatched and executed a plan so convoluted that it fucked up all our lives, especially yours. And I know you've chosen to forgive him, but friends? I wouldn't trust him.”

“Well, I'm not you. And people can change, you know. A lot can happen in three years.”

Bea just huffs in response. Hero lets out a long sigh.

“I'm not looking for your approval, Bea”, she states. “But I need you to understand that this is my life and these are the people I spend my time with and I'm happy about it, okay?”

There's some unintelligible mumbling from Bea.

“Okay”, she finally says. “Fine. Wait until Ben hears about it. He's gonna be so chuffed.”

Hero just smiles. At least she knows her cousin's boyfriend is supportive instead of stubborn. That's a start. If anyone can convince Bea of something, it's Ben.

“So how's Ben doing?”

  
  


Somehow this year seems like a turning point for her. She's finally getting rid of old memories and feelings that are haunting her and replaces them with new ones. New friends, new experiences and a new boyfriend.

She has her first kiss with Chris, her first kiss in years really, on a cloudy spring day on his front porch. It's simple as that. A bit awkward maybe but she's probably just out of practice. When they cuddle up on the couch later to watch a film, she sighs a breath of relief. Maybe she's finally getting somewhere. Not sure where but somewhere. Moving on.

Her flatmates have been pestering her for weeks about it, telling her to “get the guy” and “talk to him or else I will”. It feels like the whole world is watching her, is watching them, walking down the hallways hand in hand, sitting in classes next to each other, having lunch together. It's a strange thing, like she's not her own person any more, she's part of a construct now. At her flat she's not and with Moira and John she's not, but everywhere else she is.

And it makes her smile. It makes her feel giddy inside to hold Chris' hand, to have him pull out a chair or hold the door open for her. He's always been the chivalrous one. And she's head over heels in love with him.

  
  


It's a Friday night in early October and his parents are out of town. They've been making out on the living room couch for half an hour now. It's not her favourite thing, she prefers cuddling and short intimate kisses any time, but he likes it and she's happy to comply, so they're making out on the couch. His hand itches dangerously closer to the hem of her dress and her mind is racing with what to do about it.

It's not that she's a blushing virgin. At least not a blushing one. But that's not the point. The point is that she feels uncomfortable about it. So she pulls away before anything happens. Chris looks at her a bit confused.

“What's wrong?”

“I don't think I'm ready yet”, she says.

“Okay.” He nods. “Don't worry about it.”

  
  


She mentions it to Moira in a passing when they hang out on Sunday, just the two of them with some freshly baked vegan cupcakes. Mo cocks her head to the side and looks at her as if she's trying to figure something out.

“What was it like with your last boyfriend?”, she asks.

Hero hesitates. She doesn't talk about Claudio and their relationship often. It doesn't usually come up in conversations. Their love was short and sweet and ended in total disaster. When she thinks back to it, the memories of what was between them are tinged with the darkness of it's abrupt ending.

“It wasn't like that”, Hero says. “We never-”

“Okay.” Moira nods and takes another bite of her cupcake, chewing and swallowing before she continues: “Have you ever considered that you might be asexual? Or grey asexual? Or demisexual? Really anything of that kind?”

“Huh?”

Moira tries to explain it as good as she can, having gained some extended knowledge on the topic of sexual orientation in the past few years. Hero just listens and when she gets home that night she sits in front of her laptop for a long time before finally typing into Google: _How do asexuals feel about kissing?_ Because it might be confusing and all a bit too much information to consider, but she wants to get to the bottom of this.

  
  


November brings exams and stress. Hero spends the days mostly locked up in her room, trying to finish papers that are due in two days and revising until she falls asleep on her index cards. In between she tries to cramp extra shifts because bus fares aren't exactly cheap and she promised John they'd go back to Auckland by anything but plane. It's one of the things she's looking forward, sitting in that bus and going back home, to see her family. It's the light at the end of the tunnel.

She hasn't really talked to anyone outside her flat in a while. With Chris it's mostly texts, seeing as he's just as busy as her and they don't really find time to spend together. So when her phone blows up at 2AM, it's a complete surprise. She always has it on silence at nights but the light still wakes her. She's not a heavy sleeper.

“Yeah?”, she mutters, drowsy and rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

“Hero? It's Moira. I'm sorry for waking you up... but it's about John.”

  
  


She hates going out alone at night and she considers calling a taxi but then she just dresses in sweatpants and a hoodie, putting on her running shoes and jogs to John's place, not thinking of all the things that could happen.

Moira opens the apartment door for her and greets her with a hug. She looks like she's been crying.

“I'm sorry I'm pulling you into this”, she sniffles. “I just can't deal with this alone and I couldn't think of anyone else- he's in the bedroom.”

“Has he taken anything?”

“I don't think so. He said he didn't and I didn't find any pill containers. I made him drink a whole bottle of water. But he's been off his meds for over a year now, so...”

Hero takes a deep breath and nods. She's not sure how she can be of any help but she's willing to try.

  
  


They find John sitting on the edge of the bed, head in hands. Hero's not sure if he's crying but she can't hear any noises coming from his direction. She steps forward, carefully sitting down next to him.

“Hi John”, she greets him quietly. Moira lingers in the doorway.

“What's going on?”, Hero continues.

John just shakes his head, not looking at her. She waits, throwing nervous glances at Moira. After a few minutes he breaks.

“I can't- I can't do this any more. It's too much. I don't- I want it to stop.”

“What is too much?”

“Everything. Life. I don't excel. I fuck up everything that I'm doing- I'm not good enough. I'm rubbish.”

“You're not rubbish, John.”

He finally looks up at her, eyes bloodshot. He's been crying after all.

“How can you say that?”, he hisses. “I'm evil. I destroy, not create. I ruin people's lives. I surely fucked up yours.”

She's close to tears herself, just listening to him, staring at him. He's right, he made a huge mess, three years ago, but she's thought they've put that behind them months ago. She thought he was doing okay. Seems like he's not. So she takes a deep breath.

“Who you are is not what you did. You are so much more than that.” Her voice breaks but she can't stop now. “You're a wonderful person. You're talented, you listen to people, you care about your friends. Don't mistake your own sarcasm for being evil. It's your way of dealing with things and we accept that. You wouldn't be yourself without it- You have so much to live for and you can't just give up now.”

And suddenly they're both crying and she hugs him close, tucking his head under her chin because she can see that little boy in him who's still looking for a approval and needs her protection. He's still an innocent.

 


	13. when I was drowning, that's when I could finally breathe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John slowly gets better and an unlikely friendship develops.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, small trigger warning for suicidal thoughs in the first paragraph. Other than that this chapter should be fine.

Life is a strange thing. Just as you think it's slowly getting better, it pulls you down again. And no matter how many times you get up again, there's a point where it's too much. And you break. You consider staying down altogether – or even ending it.

He's been under pressure for weeks. Getting back into study mode for the first time after gap year is hard and he's struggling. The stress nags on him, especially on his self-esteem. And then something triggers him. When Moira asks about it later, he can't even tell. The whole night is a blur to him. Like a nightmare sequence.

He cracks. He breaks down. He has the sense to call Moira who almost knocks down his apartment door and makes him drink a whole bottle of water. Then there's Hero, who shows up inexplicably like an angel. She calms him in a way he'd be ashamed to admit if he were fully conscious. She lives up to her name and he thinks he'll never be able to repay them both for this.

 

When he wakes in the morning it feels like the nightmare has passed. He also feels strangely empty. Exhausted. Unemotionally. Blank. He turns over in his bed. He can't remember falling asleep there. He can't remember falling asleep at all. But Moira's lying next to him, fully clothed, a blanket thrown over herself. She's snoring lightly. Must've stayed over last night.

There's a smell of pancakes from the kitchen, which is strange because he's sure he doesn't even have all the ingredients for pancakes in his apartment. He carefully gets up, trying not to wake Mo in the process. But she sleeps like a rock. Quietly he steps into the kitchen to see Hero moving around with ease, making pancakes in the one pan he owns and cutting fresh strawberries into pieces.

“Good morning”, he mutters. She startles and turns around, breathing a sigh of relief when she sees him.

“You're so quiet, you scared me”, she says with a smile. “Good morning. How are you doing?”

“Okay, I guess”, he says, taking a seat on one of the kitchen chairs. “Better than last night.”

“That's good.” She puts down a plate with three pancakes and strawberries on top of it in front of him.

“I don't feel like pancakes”, he tries to protest weakly.

“Then just eat the strawberries”, Hero says, filling a glass with orange juice and setting it in front of him as well. “It's important that you eat.”

He tries to argue but finds it to be pointless, instead grabbing the fork she's laid out for him and slowly eating the strawberries. And then he eats one pancake. And the second. And the last one as well. Hero puts a bowl of cut fruits on the table and a glass with yoghurt.

“Where did you find all this stuff?”, John asks a bit puzzled. She smiles.

“At the supermarket down the road”, she replies, as if it's totally normal to sleep over at some guy's place and then go out to get ingredients to make breakfast in the morning. Except he's not some guy. He's her friend. He has to remind himself of that fact constantly.

“Thank you”, he says. “For everything you've done-”

“It's okay, John. You don't-”

“Yes I do.”

Hero sighs and sits down across from him with a small bowl, filling it with fruits and yoghurt.

“Mo and I care about you”, she says. He can tell she's choosing her words carefully. “We're worried about you. So just let us look after you for a while, okay? That's what friends are for. We're not going to abandon you. And you don't have to repay us. You repay us in hours we get to spend with you and smiles we get from you and-”

“You are a hero, you know that?”

“Hence the name.”

They both smile and there's a split second where they are just looking at each other, marvelling in the fact that they're here, on a Saturday morning after an exhausting night, having breakfast.

“Moira's still sleeping?”, Hero asks. “We could have breakfast together, I'm gonna go wake-”

“No no, let her sleep”, John quickly interrupts. “She deserves some sleep, for what she did.”

Hero sinks back into her seat, taking a spoonful of her fruits.

“Where did you- did you even sleep?”, John asks her.

“I crashed on the couch.”

“That must've been uncomfortable.”

“I'm a light sleeper. I'm not really comfortable with sharing beds.”

“That's okay, I didn't mean- did you at least get some sleep?”

“Yeah, I'm fine.”

It amazes him, how perfectly calm she is in light of recent events. He tries not to think too much about his current condition and focuses more on the effect it has on his friends. Why are they not freaked out by this? Why are they not taken aback, calling a doctor or something? But here's Hero Duke, peacefully making pancakes and fruit salad for breakfast, taking care of him. How did he ever deserve such friends?

 

The two girls rarely leave him out of sight after that. He tries to appreciate it but it's hard. It's mostly Moira who's helping him study and listens to him when he needs to talk about things, staying up until late at night. Hero's more practical, coming to cook dinner for him and dropping off whole-grain blueberry muffins. They don't talk about the big issues at hand, like Moira and him do. But he can feel her watching him, carefully, for any sign of him cracking again. So he tries not to.

It's Mid-November and Moira gets on a plane home. It's her grandfather's birthday and she can't miss it. Besides, unlike John she has finished all her exams. His last one is in three days and he's awaiting it eagerly.

It's Mid-November and he's over at Hero's place, studying. They have planned on making pasta together for dinner with the girls. He's sitting on the end of her bed, going through his notes, absent-mindedly chewing on his pencil until Hero nudges his leg with her toes and shakes her head at him, smiling. She's leaning against the headboard, reading. Like Moira, her exams are already over and she only has one last paper due but she's in her own words “taking the afternoon off because I deserve as much”.

“What?”, he asks.

“You're doing it again.”

“Huh?”

“The chewing.”

“Uh-huh.”

“It's not healthy. There's lead in pencils. It's toxic.”

“There's no lead in pencils.”

“Yes there is.”

“No, it's graphite and clay.”

Hero squints at him, furrowing her eyebrows. It looks kind of adorable, if he's being honest.

“Are you sure?”, she asks.

“Absolutely.” He lowers his pencil. “You can check on the internet if you want.”

“No, it's okay”, she replies in a tone that let's him know she'll definitely check the facts later. He grins and returns to his notes. She shuffles around on the bed, bending her legs so he's still got room on his end. There's quite a lot of shuffling after that until he finally pats his lap and she sheepishly rests her feet on it.

“Thanks.”

“No problem. Wouldn't want you to get a stiff neck.”

She smiles and returns to her book, 'A Thousand Splendid Suns' by Khaled Hosseini. He wants to ask what it's about but reminds himself that he has to study. So he takes his pencil back between his teeth, because it's not toxic, and starts revising.

 

A soft thud raises him from his notes after half an hour. He glances at Hero. Her book as fallen onto the bed next to her and from the looks of it she just dozed off. He smiles and looks over at the alarm clock on her bedside table. It's nearly 7 PM, they're supposed to get started on dinner, but he doesn't want to wake her. So he very carefully moves her feet from his lap and gets off the bed. She mutters something and rolls onto her side but doesn't wake, so he picks up the carefully folded blanket from the foot of her bed and drapes it over her before leaving the room.

Joanna's in the kitchen making tea and checking her phone for messages.

“Hey”, she greets him. Of all the girls in the flat (apart from Hero) he likes her best. She's always very matter-of-fact and rather serious.

“Hi”, he says. “Do you know where Hero put the stuff for dinner?”

Jo opens the fridge and gets out some vegetables.

“Hero's not done yet?”, she asks.

“Uhm- she fell asleep.”

“You want some help?”

“Yeah. Yes. That'd be great.”

Maybe Joanna knows about his inability to cook anything decent or maybe she's just a nice person. They cut vegetables together and talk about exams and uni. He learns she's studying Ecology and Biodiversity at Victoria University, currently in the first year of her Masters degree. She asks about his art and his favourite methods even though he's sure she knows little about it. She teaches him how to make roasted vegetables and just when the pasta's ready, a bleary-eyed Hero emerges from the room.

“Why didn't you wake me?”, she yawns. John shrugs.

“Looked like you needed some sleep. Joanna helped me, so it's fine, really.”

Very unexpectedly she hugs him, just wraps her arms around his chest and holds onto him for a moment. It's strange but then she lets him go and moves over to Joanna, hugging her too.

“You two are the best.”

 

It's the end of November and he's sitting in a bus back home to Auckland. Maybe his first year in Wellington has been a roller coaster but he wouldn't have it any other way. He's learned a lot. About people. About art. About himself.

Next to him, Hero chuckles. He glances over. She's scrolling through messages on her phone.

“Mo says hi”, she explains. “She wants to know if you handed in your project in Material design.”

“Why can't she just text me directly?”

“Because she's too lazy and she's already texting me and she knows we're going to Auckland together.”

“For all she knows I could've taken a different bus or the train.”

“No, I told her you're sitting right next to me.”

“You could be lying.”

“I would never!”, Hero protests and then holds up her phone, snapping an unexpected picture of him. “See, now I've got picture proof.”

“Now that's not very nice”, John says, grinning. “If you send her a picture of me, at least send her a good one.”

He makes a grimace and she laughs, taking another picture.

“Aaaand... sent.”

“Let me see that.”

Hero hands John her phone and he takes a picture of her, making a pouty face, sending it to Moira. Then they take a series of pictures together, just for the fun of it and end up sending one with Hero nearly dying of laughter and John looking particularly shocked.

“Hey, do you mind if I put this on Instagram?”, Hero asks, looking through the pictures and then holding the phone up for him. It's the both of them, just smiling. It surprises him how happy he looks.

“No, go ahead”, he says.

 

When he gets home in the late evening hours and finally gets to his computer after unpacking and having dinner with his parents, he pulls up her Instagram. There are a few pictures of her Wellington life but it seems like she rarely uses her account any more. Their picture is the first one in months. He clicks on it.

_Travelling home with this one. Thankful for all the friends I've made this year._

He smiles and leans back in his chair. It might be a strange thing to accept but he's slowly coming to terms with their friendship. Stranger things have happened.

 


	14. in red lipstick, with no-one to impress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A surprising Christmas and a disappointing New Years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not completely happy with this chapter and I don't know why that is. If you could let me know whether it feels off or something, that would be great. Maybe I just want to move forward to quickly.

December is nice and relaxing. She sees Meg again, and Ursula who's back home from her internship in the USA. The three of them hang out a lot, although their sleepovers are tinged with the sadness of remembering their innocent school days. She spends time with Verges who's just turned seventeen and will start her last year of school after summer break. She goes on trips around the Auckland Region with John because he's gotten the keys to his father's old car and they go exploring, working on their photography skills.

Balthazar and Pedro fly in from England one week before Christmas and seeing them again kind of saddens Hero because it reminds her that she won't get to see her cousin and Ben, who are spending Christmas in Edinburgh and don't exactly have the time or the money to make another trip to New Zealand in the same year. They skype-call on Christmas day though and it's so lovely to see them both on her laptop screen.

“Okay, do you want to tell her?”, Ben turns to Bea after they've been talking for nearly half an hour.

“Tell me what?”, Hero asks nervously.

They both grin and hold up their respective left hands. Both are garnished with a blue ring pop on the ring finger. It takes Hero a moment to grasp what is going on.

“Oh my god!”, she explains. “Is that- did you?”

“Yesterday evening”, Ben confirms, grinning over both ears.

Hero squeals so loud her mum and mumma come bursting into the room. And then they're all laughing and hugging because Ben and Bea are a couple of engaged dorks and Bea, secretly cheesy as she is, proposed on Christmas Eve after two failed proposals from her boyfriend in the past three months. (“I can't just let him propose, I've got traditions and stereotypes to break!”)

  
  


Hero and her mothers have a proper celebration with champagne after they have said their goodbyes to the newly-engaged couple, drinking a toast to them. She should've seen this coming, really, but she wasn't expecting it so soon. Yes, it's Ben and Bea, they are meant for each other and they have worked through their differences, but Hero keeps going back to the fact that she's just a year younger than them and has yet to find “the one”.

That magical prince charming, that dream that she's long given up on. At the moment Hero doesn't even know what exactly she's looking for. She's happy with Chris, but she's to realistic to call it a fairytale relationship. That's just how relationships are. Not easy, full of obstacles and complications. They're not perfect, neither of them, but they're trying to make it work.

He's promised to come up to Auckland to celebrate New Years with her and she's looking forward to that. She's already got her dress picked out, with matching lipstick and a new pair of knee-high socks she got for Christmas. It's not a fairytale but she might as well make it look like one.

  
  


What looks like a fairytale turns out to be a disaster. Meg is having a party on New Years Eve and everyone from their old group is coming. It's exciting and painful at the same time. It makes Hero miss Ben and Bea even more, seeing all their old friends again. But worst of all, Chris isn't there.

She called him that morning, asking when he'd get to Auckland and he clearly sounded surprised. He'd forgotten. That's what hurt most. Not the “I'm sorry babe, I don't think I can make it” or the “I'll make it up to you”, but the fact that he promised her to come and then forgot about it. “It's fine”, she lied, hanging up. But it's clearly not.

  
  


It's all kinds of bad and she slips off into the upstairs bathroom occasionally to calm herself, sitting on the edge of the bathtub and just feeling numb while the bassline blasts through the walls. She feels like crying because she can't go out there where Claudio is making out with his girlfriend (a different one from the one she saw him at the grocery store with), Pedro and Balth are being all cute and couply, Meg will only try and get her to drink her sorrows away and she doesn't really feel connected with any of them any more.

There's a knock on the door and she takes a deep breath, preparing herself to go out there.

“Just a moment!”, she calls.

“Hero, are you in there?” It's a muffled voice, but she knows it.

“Come in.”

The door opens and closes and then John sits down next to her.

“What's going on?”, he asks with a hoarse voice. He's caught a cold before Christmas and the effects are still lasting.

“Chris isn't coming”, she replies quietly. He nods.

“Figured as much.”

“And everyone out there... It's just too much tonight.”

“Do you want to get out?”

She looks up at him. He doesn't look like he's joking. John rarely jokes. It's more sarcastic remarks and impersonations.

“Yeah”, she says.

  
  


She excuses herself from the party by “feeling poorly” and even though she doesn't lie on principle, this feels like it's mostly the truth. When she gets outside, John's already waiting in the car.

“What did you say?”, she asks.

“Nothing”, he replies. “Nobody's going to miss me anyway.”

“I would miss you”, she says quietly after a short pause. There's a tiny smile on his lips as he pulls up onto the main road.

“Good thing we both decided to leave then.”

“You know what I mean, John.”

“Where do you want to go?” He's avoiding talking about the big things, like he usually does.

“I feel like eating”, Hero decides. “And then maybe driving out to some beach where there aren't any people.”

“That's kind of hard on New Years Eve, I think.”

“I know. Let's try anyway.”

  
  


So they get to some take-away Thai food and chips and ice cream and biscuits and fizz and they drive out of the city, away from the crowds, to some quiet beach. They sit in the dunes and eat and talk and text Moira who's spending New Years with her family in Timaru.

For the first time in years Hero doesn't feel bad for leaving a party early. She doesn't care at all, if she's being honest. She just wants to eat ice cream and talk to her friends and not feel obligated to get drunk or dance. She'll dance some other night.

“Well, there goes another dress with bad memories”, she sighs, when she accidentally drips fizz on the red fabric of the skirt.

“Why, do you- Oh.” John looks away, realising what she just said. “I'm sorry.”

“I gave the other ones away”, she explains. “They didn't fit me any more.” What she means is that they carried memories too painful to relive.

“Don't give this one away”, he says. “It looks good on you.”

It's an unexpected compliment, especially from him.

“Thanks”, she mutters, lowering her head so he doesn't see her blush.

  
  


They sit in silence for a while, Hero wrapping her dark grey cardigan closer around herself and both of them quietly sipping on their fizz.

“So I heard Ben and Bea got engaged?”, John finally suggests as a different conversation topic.

“Yeah.” Hero's face lights up. “Christmas Eve. I'm really happy for them.”

“Me too. I mean, I'm not good friends with them or anything-”

“You're friends with Ben.”

“Maybe.”

“I'm pretty sure of it.” Hero lets out a small laugh. “He always asks me how you're doing.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I mean, he's halfway across the world and doesn't have that much time and is kind of all over the place, but whenever I talk to him, he always asks about you.”

“Oh.” There's a pause between them. “Did you tell him about the-?”

“No.”

“Did you know that last summer when I was over at your place for dinner for the first time, he told me that we'd potentially be really good friends? You and me, I mean.”

Hero laughs.

“And look at where we are now.”, she says, grinning.

“Well, at least we're friends.”

“I think we can safely say we're good friends. No ordinary friend would help you escape from a party to just eat and talk.”

“I'm no ordinary person.”

“I know.”

Their eyes meet and for a moment Hero feels like adding something else, but then she doesn't.

  
  


“Do you want to talk about it?”, she asks. “About what happened last month?”

“I don't think it's that interesting.”

“I still want to know.”

“I wasn't going to kill myself.” He waits for Hero to react but she just nods, waiting for him to go on. “I was at a low point. I've had doubts about myself ever since I started at Massey. That I wasn't good enough. That I was just another depressed kid pouring their emotions into art. And all of those thoughts came back up because I was under pressure...” He clears his throat. “I didn't think I could do any of the work that was expected of me. My self-esteem isn't the best really, in case you haven't noticed.”

The short laugh he lets out sounds almost cynic. Hero puts her hand on his shoulder, to at least give him some sort of comfort.

“But I got through exams all right I think”, he continues. “And I'm going back to see a therapist in Wellington next year.”

“That sounds good.” Hero smiles up at him. “I'm really proud of you, you know?”

“Why?”

“Because you acknowledge your problems and address them.”

“Moira makes me do it, mostly. She's pretty good at that. Should've studied psychotherapy.”

“Yeah, I'm really glad you introduced us”, Hero says, smiling. “She's a good friend.”

  
  


The sounds of fireworks from the city distract them. They've completely missed the countdown, but it doesn't really matter.

“Happy New Year”, they both mutter at the same time and then look at each other, grinning.

“We should get home”, Hero adds. “It's still a long drive into the city and I promised my mums I'd be back after midnight.”

“Okay then.”

  
  


He drops her off in front of her house around 1 AM and she awkwardly hugs him over the console of his dad's old car.

“Thank you for doing this for me”, she says.

“Well, that's what friends are for, right?” He gives her a small smile.

“Yeah.”

“Good night, Hero.”

“Night, John. See you tomorrow?”

“You mean today. Probably.”

“Okay. Today.” She smiles and gets out of the car. “See you later.”

He drives off and she quietly gets into the house, trying not to wake her mums. She goes up to her room and hangs up the red party dress on her chair so she'll remember to clean it tomorrow. Because she might not have to give it away after all.

 


	15. but you don't know what you don't know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New Years Revelations from and for John.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought I was gonna go somewhere else with this chapter... but then this happened. John rebelled against my writing. I'm sorry. He just wanted to snark.

He doesn't particularly like Christmas. It always reminds him of the first time he came to New Zealand, nearly-eleven years old, getting of the plane in the pouring rain after a 24-hour flight. But he's trying to put on a nice face, for his dad, for Ann, heck, for his half-brother who's flown halfway across the world to spend Christmas with them.

Having Pedro around again is kind of strange. They've worked out their differences and they are both making an effort, but that doesn't mean they are automatically best buddies. When their dad goes to pick up Pedro and Balthazar from the airport, John comes with him though. He's not really busy doing anything and he doesn't want to start off the whole visit on a bad note. And surely, there's a big grin on Pedro's face when he sees them and he goes to hug John first.

“Hey bro, how's it going?”

“Good”, John says. “Exams went okay.”

“Look at you, being a proper uni student and everything.” Pedro grins and pats his shoulder, before greeting his dad with a hug.

This leaves John with Balthazar who offers him a slightly awkward lopsided smile.

“Hi John.”

“Hey Balthazar.”

And somehow he's gotten so used to hugging Moira and Hero hello and goodbye all the time, he hugs Balthazar too. It's a bit awkward, with a short pat on the back but Balth is grinning at him and it seems he's done all right.

  
  


They have a proper family dinner, just the four of them, on Christmas Eve. It's a bit weird at first but then Pedro starts telling stories from Brighton and John answers question about Wellington and from the outside they might actually make it look like a completely normal family. Still, John sighs a breath of relief after shutting the door of his room behind himself. He doesn't talk as easily to his family as he does to his friends.

He starts up his computer because there might be a chance that Moira might be on Skype and able to chat with him, when, just five minutes after he has left the table, there's a knock on his door. He suppresses a groan.

“Yeah?”

“It's Pedro.”

Great. Probably here to boast more about how cool Brighton is and how brilliant his perfect and famous boyfriend is.

“Come in.”

He swivels around on his desk chair as Pedro closes the door behind himself and sits down on the unmade bed.

“You didn't really say much during dinner”, he starts. “And I've been here for five days now – I just wanted to know how you're doing?”

“I'm good.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, right now, I'm good.”

“And how was your year?”

John shrugs.

“Ups and downs. The usual.”

Pedro hums. John knows that he wants to know if anything happened but he's not gonna let him know that. Because then his half-brother would be worrying about him, constantly, and John doesn't really need that.

“I heard Hero's at Massey too”, Pedro offers. John nods. “You've seen her around?”

“Yeah.”

“Talked to her?”

“Yeah.”

It kind of feels like an interrogation but John's still unsure about what good or bad it'll do if he just offers Pedro the fact that Hero and him have been talking pretty regularly and are, in fact, friends. So he doesn't say anything else.

“And how's she doing?”, Pedro asks. John shrugs.

“Good, I guess. I mean, she's Hero Duke. Don't you have her on Facebook?”

“She doesn't post much.”

“Well, she's probably gonna be at Meg's party for New Years, like everyone, so you can ask her then.”

“Right.”

  
  


He wouldn't have attended the party if it weren't for Pedro dragging him along. Parties aren't really for him. He's not particularly good at socialising and the constant cheerful mood of these kind of events is just too much for him after a while. He spends some time chatting to Balthazar but luckily Hero gives him the opportunity to ditch the whole thing altogether after two hours.

Spending New Years Eve on a beach with food and drinks and Hero Duke isn't exactly what he imagined his life to become. He never thought that of all the people she would make him smile and talk and laugh. It's all a bit strange to him still but when he drives her home and she hugs him goodbye and he watches her get out of the car and into the house, that's when he's sure. This year is going to be better.

  
  


Ironically, the first 14 hours of the new year are spent being pissed his whole family. John comes home to his parents and his half-brother waiting up for him and the first words when he enters the house are from his dad: “Where have you been?”

John looks at Pedro, then at Ann and finally at his dad. He connects the dots.

“Out”, he says.

“On New Years Eve?”, Ann sighs. John shrugs.

“I thought you'd gone home”, Pedro says. “But then I got here and you weren't...”

“Why didn't you tell Pedro where you were going?”, their dad asks, crossing his arms.

John just blinks an everyone's quiet for a moment.

“I'm nineteen, almost twenty, I don't think I have to tell anyone what I'm doing or where I'm going. You let me drive around these past few weeks without asking.”

“Not at night, John.” His dad stretches out his hand towards him.

“Keys”, he says in a stern voice. “You're not driving that car around any more.”

John scowls and drops the car keys in his father's hand.

“And you're grounded.”, his dad adds.

“What?” John raises his eyebrows in disbelief. “You can't ground me. I don't even live here any more.”

“You're still my son.”

“Yeah, your bastard son”, he snarls, turning around and storming out the door, slamming it shut behind him.

  
  


It's a bit strange that no-one comes running after him. But he only realises that when he's already down the street and around the corner. He shoves his hands into his pockets and keeps walking, contemplating what to do next. He can't just turn around and walk back, he doesn't want to right now. A small part of him knows he's just being over-dramatic but he can't cope with his parents at the moment. He wishes he were in his flat in Wellington but he has no ways of getting there, he only took his phone with him. So he does the one thing he can do. He makes a call.

  
  


Hero opens the door for him, bleary-eyed and in her pyjamas. He steps out of his shoes and she motions him to be quiet before waving him upstairs. It's the first time since that weird dinner last winter that he's in her room. Hero steps out for a moment and then comes back with a second pillow and blanket.

“You want the inner or the outer side?”, she asks in a hushed voice.

“I want the floor.”

“You're not sleeping on the floor.”

“Can I sleep on the couch?”

“I don't have a couch.”

“You do, downstairs.”

“I'm not letting you sleep downstairs.”

They stare at each other for a moment, both too stubborn to give in. Finally Hero sighs.

“Do you feel uncomfortable about sleeping in a bed with me?”

John doesn't answer.

“You slept in a bed with Moira, it's not that different.”

“No touching.”

“We're not horny teenagers, John.”

“We're nineteen.”

“I'm pretty sure I might be asexual.”

“Good, so am I.”

“Great. Now can we please go sleep? Inner or outer side?”

“Outer side.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

  
  


They both shuffle around a bit, leaving space between them and turning to face each other.

“You know this is foolish, right?”, Hero whispers. “Running away doesn't solve problems.”

“I just needed some space.”

“That's okay.”

“It's just frustrating, like they don't understand me at all.”

“Do you understand yourself?”

He hesitates. He's never thought about that.

“Sometimes”, he admits. He doesn't get a lot of things about himself, like why he's depressed, where that stems from, why he reacts the way he does to certain things.

“Imagine how hard it must be for people other than you, people you rarely talk to.”

“Moira understands me.”

“I think we've already established that Moira is a psychotherapist in the body of a twenty-year-old art student.”

They both smile at the thought of their friend.

“Just promise you'll talk to them, okay?”

“I'll try.”

John lets out a sigh and closes his eyes. There's a movement of blankets and then a warm hand touches his shaking ones. He doesn't pull back.

  
  


It's a bumpy start for 2018. First a serious talk with Hero and Hero's mums after they find out he's been sleeping over, which ends in a mutual agreement that the whole bed-situation will not be mentioned and if anybody asks, he slept in the guestroom. Then a serious talk with his parents and Hero's mums in which he offers up the information that he's going to see a therapist again and that Hero and him are friends, just friends. And finally he has to apologise to Pedro for leaving the party without giving notice, even though he still feels like that was completely justified. His dad in return apologises for reacting harshly and takes back the grounding. He doesn't get back the car keys though.

The strangest thing is that from that day on it seems to get easier. He tries to open up. It works best with Ann. He doesn't know what it is with him and women lately, that he's so surrounded by them and can talk to them more easily. His dad thinks it's something else entirely but John doesn't even realise that until he's asked to sit in the living room under the pretence of having to talk about something important and the opening line is: “Son, we love you no matter who you are.”

“Dad, I'm not gay”, he says because he can see where this is going. “I'm asexual.”

“Oh.”

He's known for a long time, almost as long as knowing that his half-brother is bisexual. After a few strange encounters in High School he had decided he disliked kissing and just generally being touched by people he didn't trust. He'd done his research. And that was that.

“Well, we're here supporting you if you need us”, his dad says, apparently a bit thrown off by the news.

“Good”, John replies. “Does this mean I can give you back the condoms you've been secretly stuffing into my bedside drawer? I don't think I'm gonna need them for the next fifty to sixty years and they'll probably expire before that.”

“Yeah”, his dad mutters absent-mindedly. “Yeah, sure.”


	16. one second it was perfect now you're halfway out the door

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hero reconsiders things.

She leaves for Wellington on the 7th of January, the day after John's birthday. He doesn't really celebrate but Hero bakes a cake that she brings over, dragging along Cora who she's run into at the supermarket the day before. It's sort of got the setting of the “Mad” Tea Party with Hero as Alice, Cora as the March Hare and John as the Hatter. But they have fun, laughing about old jokes from school, eating cake and drinking tea. It turns out to be really more of a Fun Tea Party.

But she leaves for Wellington the next afternoon because she's promised to help out at the Bakery on Monday and Chris has been asking when she'd be back. That one she's a bit apprehensive about, seeing him again. Their practically perfect relationship has just taken the first crack and she's not sure how to handle it.

  
  


As far as apologies go, he's putting some effort into making it up for her. He picks her up at the airport and takes her home to her flat. He waits while she takes a shower and puts on some fresh clothes and he takes her to a nice Indian restaurant for dinner. It's good. They talk. The food is wonderful and he pays for everything.

But in the back of her mind a small voice wonders what would be if they weren't together. She'd taken a taxi home, or the bus. She'd gone to one of the cafés down the street to get dinner, or made some herself. And then she'd probably just lain on her bed, watching TV or a film. It wouldn't have been too bad.

She gives him a half-hearted kiss goodnight when he drops her off at her place, walking her to the door.

  
  


The next few weeks are mostly spent working at the Bakery. She makes comparably good money and she's saving up most of it for travelling after she's finished her studies. That's her plan. Finish her degree and then off to Europe.

Her flatmates arrive somewhere at the end of January and beginning of February, until then she's mostly alone. Yes, she sees Chris almost every other day but it's not like before. He takes her on walks and to the cinema, even to the theatre. They have dinner at his place and she stays over occasionally. It's nice to cuddle and he's being patient with her but she lies awake at night, his arm wrapped around her, and all she can think of is what she said to John.

“ _I'm pretty sure I'm asexual.”_

Why was that so easy to admit to him and why is it so hard to bring it up in a conversation with Chris? She knows the answer too well. John doesn't care whether she wants to have sex or not. But Chris does.

  
  


At first she thinks it doesn't matter. They go along just fine. But then they drive out and go tramping and the sun is shining, everything's looking like it's going to be a perfect day. They stop at a vantage point to drink and eat and he's sitting across from her, smiling at her, a light cover of sweat glistening on his forehead.

“I need to tell you something”, she says.

“Okay.” He seems a bit taken aback, cautious.

“I might be asexual.”

“Do you want to explain?”

“It's lack of sexual attraction and interest in sex.”

“So you don't want to have sex?”

“I'm not particularly interested in it...” She's hesitant about this answer because it's the make-it-or-break-it point of this conversation.

Chris seems to consider her answer and there's silence between them.

“Okay”, he finally says. “If you don't feel comfortable, that's totally fine- Wait. You're not attracted to me?”

Hero laughs, a bit relieved.

“I'm very much romantically attracted to you, you-”

He leans over and stops her talking with a kiss.

“Glad we've got that settled”, he says with a grin.

It gets easier after that. She doesn't feel pressured to do anything. And Chris is being surprisingly supportive about it all.

  
  


They start uni again at the end of February. For Hero it's one more year of studying before her independent project and she has yet to decide what she wants to focus on. She loves Illustration and Graphic Design and she's pretty good at Digital Media but sometimes it all still seems a bit too forced and she catches herself sneaking looks at what the Fashion Design students are creating. Yes, she might be good at working with the sewing machine, she's made a surprising amount of her clothes herself, but Fashion Design?

It's Mei and Moira who finally convince her to go to a counsellor, two weeks before uni starts again, and talk about it. It's unexpected. Hero explains the situation. The counsellor looks at her documents and then back at her.

“You did the Dress studio in first year?”, she asks. Hero nods.

“It was just for fun”, she explains. “I didn't really need it, I was pretty much set on Visual communication design at that point already...”

“And now you're doubting yourself?”

Hero bites her lips, then nods.

“Well, here's what we can do...”

She gets lucky. It's a setback of a year but the moment she signs the paperwork there's no doubting. She's going to start over in second year and learn Fashion Design. If life has taught her anything these days, it's that sometimes you have to take a leap of faith for things to change.

  
  


Mei is waiting for her outside the counsellor's office and when Hero comes out, beaming, she jumps up squealing, hugging her friend.

“I'm so proud of you!”

They are jumping up and down, laughing and squealing until someone in a nearby office opens reprimands them, asking them to be quiet. The laughing turns to giggling and they grab their bags to go outside and sit in the sun.

“Okay, who do I call first?”, Hero asks, pulling out her phone.

“Probably your parents.”

“Right.”

She calls her mums. She sends a text to Bea even though she must probably be sleeping. She calls Moira who invites them over for dinner because “This must be celebrated!”. Finally, she calls Chris.

“Oh”, is his first reaction. “Why didn't you tell me?”

“Well, I'm telling you now.”

“Okay.”

“What is it?”

“I don't know. I wish you'd tell me these things beforehand. I didn't know something was bothering you and now you just suddenly switch courses.”

“Chris, I didn't even think about switching until a few days ago.”

“Did you tell anyone about it?”

“I talked to Mei and Moira, but that's just because we were having dinner together and it came up in the conversation. And I got the appointment at the counsellor's so fast I didn't have time-”

“Fine. Anything else?”

“Chris, don't be so mean about this-”

“Mean? Me? You just went over my head and changed your course of studies!”

“It's **my** course of studies. I'm my own person! I can make my own decisions!”

She never raises her voice. But Chris is being a jerk and it makes her angry, so this might be a good reason for an exception. She takes a deep breath before continuing.

“Chris, I was hoping you'd be supportive about this”, she says. “But if you can't then I don't need you right now.”

Before he can say anything in response, she hangs up. Mei just stares at her for a moment, then opens her arms and hugs her.

“He's an ass if he doesn't want you to be happy”, she says. “You deserve all the happiness in the world.”

  
  


The dinner at Moira's place is fun. They're with twelve people which is double the household members and they're having vegan pizza, sitting on chairs and sofas and the floor. It's the first time Hero's and Moira's flatmates meet and it's loud with laughter and chatting. It's a good distraction. But it's not enough.

Hero goes to sit in Moira's room for a while after dinner. If anyone notices they don't say anything. She just sits on the bed and stares at the sheets of colourful fabric covering the wall across from the bed. It's got the most intricate patterns and it's kind of calming. John comes to sit with her after a few minutes and they both lean against the wall, listening to the muffled voices of their friends outside. Her phone buzzes and she pulls it out, checks it, then slips it back into her cardigan pocket.

“Is it Chris?”, John asks after a minute.

“Yeah.”

“How did he take it?”

“He's being a jerk about it. Makes me feel like I'm being selfish.”

“That sucks.”

“Yeah.”

She leans her head on his shoulder because her boyfriend is being a shithead that makes her feel miserable right now and she just needs a little compassion. John stiffens for a moment but then relaxes against the wall.

“You don't like people touching you, do you?”, Hero asks. He's hesitant with his answer.

“Only if I don't know them very well...”, he replies. “Or if I dislike them, obviously.”

“You'd tell me if you didn't like it, right?”

“Of course.”

“Good.”

A knock on the door interrupts their conversation and Hero sits up again.

“Come on in.”

“Hey, sorry, am I interrupting?” It's Mei.

“No, no, come in, sit.” Hero pats the space next to her.

Mei closes the door behind her and sits down on the bed.

“What are you guys talking about?”

Hero and John look at each other. They're not really good at wordless conversation yet.

“Just stuff”, Hero finally says. Mei smiles and shakes her head.

“How's uni, John?”, she asks instead, leaning a bit forward so she can look at John. They haven't seen each other in a while and the flirty undertone in her voice that she used to have is somehow gone. John shrugs.

“I think this year will be interesting”, he offers. “It's mostly just art studio so I'll be doing my own style a lot.”

“You're a painter, right?”

“Painting and drawing. I really want to get into photography and printmaking though.”

“What about sculpting?”, Hero suggests. “Or performance. You could get really out of your comfort zone.”

“I think that's more Mo's area”, John replies with a smirk.

“What's Finley doing then?”, Hero asks.

“Photography Major.”

“Wait, like- I thought she was a BFA?”

“No, she's studying Design, like you.”

“I don't even get what you're all talking about”, Mei interrupts with a laugh.

“Well, you're at a different uni”, Hero says. “So...”

“Technically you two aren't even going to uni, it's a just college-”

“-of Creative Arts!”, John and Hero protest simultaneously, looking at each other and breaking into laughter.

“And it's part of Massey University”, John adds after the laughter has subsided. “So you're wrong. Hah.”

  
  


When they get home there's a bouquet of red roses on the doorstep with a card attached to it.

“Ooooh, someone messed up”, Ella notes with a grin. Hero rolls her eyes at her and picks up the flowers and the card, carrying it through the hallway and into her room. She not particularly eager to read the note but she has to sooner or later so she might as well get it over with.

_Babe. I'm sorry about what I said. I was being a jerk about it. You just took me by surprise. Can you forgive me? - Chris_

She lets out a sigh. Forgiveness. Something she was so eager to hand out three and a half years ago when she was so in love with a boy she would've done anything. She could just break it off right here, over an argument about fields of studies. But she likes Chris. She likes his smile, the dimples he gets. She likes the way his clothes smell and the way he kisses her on the top of the head. She likes being with him. So she picks up her phone.

_Apology accepted. - Hero_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There was a whole bunch of information about Massey University and the CoCA in there, so I hope my research was okay and I got my facts right.


	17. you paint me a blue sky and go back and turn it to rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The girl in the dress cried the whole way home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm breaking my pattern and am posting another Hero-Perspective chapter here. (Also breaking pattern with the chapter summary, sorry!) This chapter needed to come first. I needed to sort out some things. Next chapter is John again, don't worry.

„I've got something for you.“

„Okay.“

They're sitting at his favourite coffee shop having lunch somewhere in between their different classes and lectures. Chris pulls out an envelope from his bag and lays it in front of her on the table.

“What's this?”

“It's a gift. For our half-year anniversary.”

“Oh, you shouldn't have”, she says, already feeling bad that she didn't get him anything.

“I couldn't skip this opportunity”, he replies with a wink. “Go ahead, open it.”

She does, a bit nervous. What she pulls out look like tickets. Black and white with a golden emblem she's been seeing around constantly lately. She's trying to wrap her head around what this means.

“Are these – Wellington Fashion Week?”

“I'm really sorry I only got tickets to two shows...”

“Oh my god, thank you!” She beams at him, still unable to properly put what she is feeling right now into words. “This is- I can't believe you got those! Only third year students get to go and you- Thank you.”

She grabs his hand that's resting on the table between them.

“You're the best.”

“So are you gonna take me with you or are you going to ditch me and drag along one of your Fashion friends?”, he asks with a grin. She laughs and shakes her head at him.

“I'll take you”, she replies. “If you know how to dress up properly.”

“Oh do I know how to dress up properly.” He wiggles his eyebrows at her and she can't help but laugh again.

  
  


The Fashion Week is at the end of March and Hero has barely any time to prepare for it. She wishes she could wear a dress she's sewn herself, but there's not enough time for a new design and the few dresses she's actually created herself aren't for the occasion. Actually, nothing she owns feels good enough for a fashion show.

The fact that Chris actually got her tickets to two shows is still mind-boggling to her. The bouquet of roses were a big romantic gesture but the tickets are a sign that he's understanding, accepting and supporting her decision to change her field of studies. They were also probably really hard to come by and cost a lot of money, something Hero doesn't like to be reminded of. So she distracts herself with clothing choices.

  
  


It comes down to monochrome clothes. It's not her typical style but a safe bet for a fashion show. Black chinos with high heels and a white blouse for the first show, a grey a-line dress with a statement necklace and pumps for the second show. She finds the outfits rather classy.

“You look very professional”, Chris says with a smile. “It's rather intimidating to have you almost at my height.”

He's exaggerating, the shoes make Hero only about 10cm taller and she's still quite short.

“Well, you should be”, she says with a smirk. “Two years from now I will take this Fashion Week by storm and then I'll be the next Rebecca Taylor.”

“Good thing you're not in the running this year.” Chris raises their entwined hands to his lips and kisses her knuckles.

“It's not a competition, Chris”, she reminds him.

They're sitting second row for the first and third row for the second show and it's absolutely brilliant. Hero's glad she's brought along her notebook, scribbling down bits of ideas and small summaries of what the dresses looked like. She knows it's a bit cheating that she gets this firsthand information but they're probably going to watch footage from the show later on in class anyway. Now it's just hers to enjoy.

They drink bubbly at the afterparty and mingle. Chris introduces her to a family friend who's a writer for a fashion magazine and Hero spends a long time asking her questions. She might be open hearted and friendly but Chris has the charm to just meet people. She watches him chat to people he's never met before like it's nothing. And then he always manages to find her in a crowded room, smiles and waves her over. Sometimes she wishes she had his talents. Without him she'd feel utterly lost at this party.

She falls into bed that night, drunk on excitement and champagne and love.

  
  


“Are you gonna come to my party on Friday?”

“Of course I'm gonna come, it's your birthday party.”

She gives him a peck on the lips. He smiles at her.

It's a belated birthday party in early April but his parents are out of town and in usual Chris-manner he's throwing one of those big parties where all the art school kids come to, with loud music, fancy drinks and lots of dancing.

  
  


It's already in full swing when Moira and Finley show up. Hero bounces over to them, grinning from ear to ear. She's actually happy about being at a party today because it's with Chris, it's his birthday party and he's been so lovely lately. There's greetings and hugging, even though Hero doesn't know Finley very well.

“Where's John?”, she asks.

“Not coming, I'm afraid”, Moira says. “You know him. Didn't feel like it.”

“Well he's not one for making excuses.” Hero laughs and then steps back, gesturing at her dress. “How do you like it?”

“Is it your design?”, Mo asks. “It's great!”

It's a rather simple design in a gold-grey-pattern with a belt around her waist, but Hero's quite proud of it being one of her first creations since she started studying Fashion Design.

“I love the fabric too, it's nothing I've ever worked with before and-”

“Hey babe.”

Chris turns up next to her, putting his arm around her. She smiles up at him.

“Hello handsome”, she says, straightening his tie.

“Can I steal you away for a few minutes?”

“Sure.”

  
  


He leads her up the stairs to his bedroom. Its a bit more quiet up there, the party is mostly covering the kitchen, living room and garden. The door falls shut with a soft thud and then it's just the two of them.

“What's up?”, she asks.

“Just wanted you to myself for a moment”, he replies with a smile and then leans down to kiss her.

It's a soft, lingering kiss, then another and another, catching lips and breathing together. She's a bit tipsy and she rather enjoys kissing him today, gives her something else to do with her lips rather than talk. He pulls her down onto the bed and she settles in his lap, kissing his cheeks, his chin, his neck, until he drags his lips back on hers.

He tastes like alcohol and red velvet cupcakes, the ones she baked for his party, the ones that didn't last long with all these people here. He kisses her intently, one hand on the small of her back, one in her hair. She kisses him in small movements, fluttering like a bird.

Until his hand finds its way under the skirt of her dress.

“What are you doing?”, she asks quietly, pulling away. Chris hums, not budging from her upper thigh.

“Chris, please”, she says. “We talked about this.”

“But it's my birthday”, he whispers, leaning in to kiss her again. “And I love you.”

“No.” She stumbles from his lap, getting up, putting distance between them. “That's not how this works.”

He rubs his eyes, then runs his fingers through his hair and finally looks up at her.

“Fine”, he mutters, getting up. “I'll be downstairs.”

And then he leaves her alone, with shaking hands and on the verge of tears, sitting down on the bedroom floor in her crumpled dress.

  
  


She tries to pull herself together but fails miserably. So she leaves him a note on the bed and sneaks out of the party, calling a taxi to take her home.

It's her worst nightmare. She thought it would be better with coming out to him, explaining everything. She thought he'd understood her. Worst of all, she thought she could trust him. She doesn't know if it's just the alcohol or if he's finally decided to change his mind. She doesn't know what went wrong and she cries tears of mascara in the bathroom because of it.

Her dress hangs on the clothing rack in the corner of her bedroom and she sits on her bed in her sweatpants and t-shirt, staring at it. It's 3:18 AM and she can't sleep. She's tried, she's exhausted but she can't seem to find her peace. She's checking her phone again, but no new messages. From experience her guesses are that Chris is probably getting drunk and has forgotten about the incident completely. She wouldn't put it past him.

  
  


She fakes sick the next day and hides away in her room. She feels sick, to be honest. Mei brings her tea but doesn’t have time to ask questions because her studying is stressful, as usual. So Hero curls up in her bed and feels miserable all by herself.

Moira shows up in the afternoon. Joanna lets her in and she enters with careful knocks on the door, sitting down on the bed, a sad smile on her face.

“How are you doing?”, she asks.

“Sick”, Hero mutters, brushing strands of blond hair out of her face.

“I'm sorry.” Mo pulls her into a hug. “What happened? You were gone so suddenly yesterday...”

So Hero tells her. Everything. How she came out to Chris, how he's been good with everything until last night. She cries some more and Moira holds her close, stroking her hair.

“I should've known something was wrong”, she mutters. “Should've punched him in the face right there.”

“What?”

“I'm so sorry, Hero.”

And then Moira tells Hero. How she stayed at the party until late at night. How she caught Chris sneak down from his room, his hand on the back of another girl. How she confronted him and he denied everything.

“No”, Hero says. “This can't be happening. No. No no no no no.”

The world shatters before her and she breaks down sobbing. Because this has been her biggest fear from the day she told him she might be asexual: If he didn't get what he wanted from her, he'd go and find it somewhere else. She just never thought it would actually happen.

And then it all comes rushing back to her, the moments they were truly happy together, and she's crying because it's all crumbling down in ruins in front of her now, the facade of a boy who she loved too much and who cared too little.

  
  


By Monday she's all cried out and what's left is pure disappointment and anger at Chris. She grits her teeth and dresses in black. She's had heartbreak before. Heck, she's had her life in ruins before. But she's hardened up. With Bea far away in Scotland, she has to rip out hearts and eat them on her own. She's long learned to become her own hero.

  
  


She intercepts Chris on his way from one class to another.

“We need to talk.”

“Not now, Hero”, he says, looking stressed.

“Yes now”, she says, grabbing his arm to stop him from walking away. “I'm only doing this once.”

“Fine.”

She glares at him.

“Did you really think I wouldn't hear about it?”, she asks. “Did you think you could just gloss over it, like you do all the time? How could you do this to me? I thought you could be trusted- I trusted you! I asked you to respect me and you didn't. And then you go off with some other girl-”

“Babe, I swear, nothing happened!”

Hero looks at him, eyes filling with tears. People have stopped and stare. She knows this trick. Nothing happened. You're imagining things. People are lying. Trust me.

“I don't care what happened”, she says, very firmly and quiet now. “I care about the fact that you broke my trust on something I was adamant about. Here I am, walking around with my head down because I'll never be good enough for you, I'll never impress you. But the truth is I did everything right and you did so much wrong.”

“Are you breaking up with me?”, he asks, incredulous.

“Yes. And we're never getting back together. Like, ever.”

She turns her back on him and walks off. It's the worst feeling in the world. But this is her decision.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry but ALL THE OPPORTUNITIES FOR TAYLOR SWIFT REFERENCES!


	18. people throw rocks at things that shine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John tries to fix a broken heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, a John chapter. Basically set during the same timeframe as the last two chapters combined.

He dives head first into his art in March. He hangs around the studio longer than Moira did during her first year. Sometimes he forgets it's lunchtime until Mo sits down next to him with a packaged sandwich. He still can't let go of charcoal, which is his favourite, but he's found a way to combine it with watercolour and he experiments with oil as well.

He uses his own photography as reference more than often, which in return makes him work on his photography and digital design more. But probably the most surprising discovery for him is printmaking. To him it's an art form that's unexpected and always turns out a bit different than intended. He loves doing it.

  
  


Their group from first year has kind of dispersed as everyone is attending different courses now. It was bound to happen. He sees Indie walking into the same classes as Hero a few times, she's doing the Fashion Design Major as well. Tama has chosen Industrial Design and pretty much only hangs out with the other Industrial Design Majors. Only Finley is sticking around and John's sure he knows the reason for that.

“Why don't you just ask her out?”, he finally says to Moira after they have dropped of Finley at her Resident Hall. They've gone to see a movie together, the three of them, and it had taken all of his willpower not to abandon the two girls in the dark cinema.

“What?”, Moira squeaks. It's kind of funny to watch her squirm.

“Come on, she's had her eyes on you since day one.”

“I don't- I mean- Do you think so?”

“Mo, for someone who seems to have every understanding of the human emotional spectrum you've really turned a blind eye on love.”

She stares at him, her mouth agape.

“Fin's clearly in love with you”, he adds. “And seriously, you two are perfect for each other.”

“I don't- Hah- What- Who taught you those words, John?”

She's trying to sound outraged but fails miserably. He just grins at her. He's good at reading people and he's certainly been right about Moira and Finley for a long time now. He catches them holding hands around campus a week later.

  
  


He doesn't see a lot of Hero these days, mostly because they're both busy studying and she's additionally spending a lot of time with her boyfriend. He doesn't blame her, but it's strange to be the only single one out of a group of three. Not that he'd want a girlfriend. He doesn't need kissing or any kind of touching for that matter. He's fine with the basic friendly gestures from Mo and Hero, but he can't imagine himself cuddling with some strange faceless girl he barely knows.

Ever since that night spent at Hero's house he's been thinking a lot about it. How comfortable he feels around certain people and how uncomfortable around others. What of it is part of his sexual orientation and what of it is just something that takes time to get used to.

Moira has been telling him that he needs to learn how to love and accept himself, in order to be able to receive love. But he's starting to be more and more sure that he's simply an aromantic asexual introvert with no need for human interaction. He really values Moira's friendship but sometimes he feels like she's trying to fix something that's not broken.

  
  


“Hey.”

He looks up from the prints he's been making in the morning. He's just sorting through them now, trying to see which ones turned out usable and which he can throw away.

“Oh, hi Hero.”

He can't help but return her smile. She looks good, even if she's just wearing dark skinny jeans and a blue sweater.

“How are you?”, he asks, putting the last of the prints on the stack of works to keep.

“Good”, she says, pulling a print from the pile of sorted out pieces and examining it. “Hey, you're getting real good at this.”

“I was going to throw those away.”

“What?”

The following ten minutes are spent going through his prints again, arguing about which are the good ones and which are going to end up being trashed. John wouldn't admit to it but he's kind of been missing their playful banter and hearing Hero's opinion on things.

“Well if you're not going to keep these, I will”, she says, pulling three prints towards her.

“Okay.”

“Good.”

“You're welcome.”

“Thanks.”

They stare at each other and then they both laugh. He wishes he had the ease she has to just touch other people, hug them spontaneously. But he's not that kind of person so he just smiles at her as she stores away the prints in her leather messenger bag.

“Hey, I wanted to give you something”, she says, pulling out a simple card from her bag and handing it to him. It's an invite to what looks like a birthday party.

“It's Chris' birthday party”, she explains. “I know you two don't know each other very well but he's invited so many people it doesn't matter. It's more of a house party really. And I invited Mo and Finley as well, so you won't be there all alone.”

He just nods, examining the card one more time before slipping it into his bag.

“I'll see what I can do”, he says, even though he already knows it's highly unlikely that he'll be there and they both know it. Hero just invited him out of solidarity.

“Okay then”, she replies with a smile. “I'll see you around.”

And then she's gone, without a hug goodbye. It's a strange thing he only notices a few hours later.

  
  


He hears about the disaster from Moira on Saturday evening. She calls him to let him know that she can't make it for dinner and mentions something about staying over at Hero's place.

“Okay”, he says, hesitant because Mo is being vague.

“Hero's not feeling very well”, Mo offers.

“Sick?”

“You could say that. Broken heart.”

“Shit. What happened?”

“Chris wanted to pressure her into doing something she didn't want-”

“Sex?”, he guesses, mentally cursing himself because that's way too inquisitive and none of his business. But Moira only sounds surprised.

“How do you know?”

“Hero told me she's asexual.”

“Okay. Good.” Moira seems to have lost her trail of thoughts for a moment. “Right, so she left the party early but I was still there and I caught him hooking up with another girl.”

John breathes in air through his gritted teeth and rubs his temples. This doesn't sound too good.

“How's Hero?”, he finally asks.

“Crying her heart out. Poor girl.”

“Is there anything I can do for her?”

“That's sweet of you John. But I think we're settled with ice cream and Taylor Swift for the night. She needs to sleep and she needs to break things off with that jerkface.”

“Right. So you'll let me know if there's anything?”

“Sure. Have a good night, John.”

“Night, Mo.”

He hangs up and stares at the phone. He doesn't know what to feel. Anger. Helplessness. He has recollections of the aftermath of a sixteenth birthday. But this time it's not him that's done the mess. Chris managed to screw up all on his own. And Hero is once again the one suffering.

  
  


He doesn't hear or see from her until Monday. He's in the studio, painting and he usually just minds his own business but he can't help and overhear the two girls in the workspace next to his talking about “that Hero girl” who “dumped Chris” and is “clearly crazy because Chris would never”. He turns around, stone-faced, staring at the two girls.

“Hey”, he says, his voice cold and sharp. “That's my friend you're talking about.”

The girls look at him, surprised, maybe even confused. He rarely talks to people, so they might as well have never heard his voice before.

“You're friends with Chris?”, one of the girls asks, raising her eyebrows at him.

“No, with Hero Duke”, he says. “So you better watch where you're gossiping.”

He can see Moira who's just come in from her bathroom break smirking at him across the room. Clearly she's picked up on what's going on. The two girls turn away, talking in hushed voices, probably about him being a weirdo now but John doesn't care.

  
  


Baking a cake shouldn't be too hard. Except for the fact that he doesn't own a cake pan to make it in. He could ask Moira but he doesn't really want to confide in her in case it all goes wrong. So he goes to buy a cake pan. And ingredients. Because he's going to make the most chocolatey vegan cake ever.

He's baked this cake before. Well, he helped bake this cake before, mostly it was just Hero's doing. Now he's the one standing in his tiny kitchen, measuring sugar and flour and cocoa powder. He almost confuses salt and sugar but has the mind to check before. When he melts the chocolate for the coating of the cake in the microwave, he burns the first bowl and has to go out and buy more chocolate.

But somehow he bakes a cake.

  
  


Hero stands at the top of the stairwell, waiting for him after buzzing him in.

“Hey”, he says. He realises he must look a mess from the wind and rain outside. “I wanted to check how you're doing.”

The smile she gives him looks sad and tired.

“And I brought cake”, he adds, pulling out a plastic container from his bag. He had to cut up the cake for transporting. He offers it to Hero and she takes it, carefully opening the box and examining the contents.

“Did you bake this?”, she asks quietly. He nods.

She closes the box and puts it down on the floor before stepping forward and wrapping her arms around his chest. He's unsure what to do until he finally puts his arms around her, hugging her close. He's never had to comfort anyone. It makes him feel helpless, especially when he can feel Hero shaking from what must be tears. He strokes her hair and her back because that's what he remembers from his childhood, when his mother had to calm him down after a bad dream. Finally Hero pulls away, wiping tears off her cheeks.

“I can't believe you actually made cake for me”, she says, laughing through her tears.

“I had to buy a cake pan first”, he informs her. Which makes her laugh even more for no apparent reason.

“Come on then”, she says. “Let's eat cake.”

  
  


They sit on her bed and eat cake, listening to music. He can tell she tries to avoid talking about Chris, so he does too. Instead they talk about Moira and Finley, their current projects at uni or what they've planned for mid-semester break.

“This cake is so good”, Hero declares after her second piece. “I can't stop eating.”

“It's a miracle.”

“What? That I can't stop eating?”

“No, that the cake turned out good.”

“Maybe baking cake is like your secret superpower”, Hero suggests. John shakes his head, smiling.

“No, that's more your forte.”

Hero grins at the hidden compliment and nudges him.

“I missed having you around”, she says in a quiet voice. “I'm sorry I've been so terribly busy.”

“Don't be”, he replies. “You're not to blame.”

They both know he's not talking about her being busy. She leans back against the wall, staring up at the ceiling.

“Have you ever been so in love with someone”, she asks. “And then that someone broke your heart?”

“I've never been in love before”, he answers. “I'm pretty sure I might be aromantic.”

“You never had a girlfriend?”

“I've had girlfriends. That doesn't mean I've been in love.”

“Right.”

“I've had my heart broken though. I wouldn't be the person I am today if I hadn't had my heart broken at least once. Pure-hearted people don't get depressed.”

Hero looks at him with a pained expression.

“You can't honestly believe that, John.”

“I still haven't figured out why I'm depressed. So that's what I think happened.” He shrugs.

“What does your therapists say?”

“Not much. I've only been seeing her for one month now. That's barely any time to judge a person.”

“And how are you doing?”, she asks him. He realises she's turned the tables without him noticing but it's too late to back out now.

“Good. No setbacks so far.”

“I wish I could say the same about me”, Hero sighs. John looks at her from the side. He's never seen her face this sad and anguished. Without thinking he grabs her hand, just like she did when he slept over next to her in her small childhood room.

“Breaking up with someone isn't a setback”, he says. “It's a step forward.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter might take a while. I have been seriously procrastinating and have to get caught up on uni work before my lectures start again on Monday. Please be patient.


	19. we're singing in the car, getting lost upstate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hero gets some cheering up of the best kind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this was a bit of a spontaneous idea but I ran with it. If it means moving ahead slowly, so be it. But I needed something happy after breaking Hero's heart. Hero needed some happiness as well. So here goes...

It's not easy. It never is. She puts herself together like a puzzle, trying to remember what she looked like when she was just herself and not a part of two. There's so much free time in her calendar now and she doesn't know what to do with it. Sometimes she sits in her room and stares at the blank spaces where she used to have pictures of him hanging. Then she goes and prints out photos of her friends, her family, and covers the spaces.

When Moira invites her to come with Finley, John and her to Timaru during their mid-semester break, she accepts without asking further questions. Anything for a change of scene. It's a two week break and they're going to take the ferry from Wellington to Picton, get a rental car and then drive down to Timaru because John's still scared of flying and a roadtrip is always fun.

  


That's how she finds herself on a ferry in the early hours of Saturday, mid-April, leaning on the railing on the sun deck next to what seem to have become two of her closest friends and a girl she knows very little about except for the fact that she fancies Mo.

Finley kind of reminds her of Bea, she's just as talkative and snarky. But she's also taller, with long dark hair hidden under a red beanie and dark blue Doc Martens on her feet. Hero watches her slip her arm around Moira to pull her closer and she has to turn away because it still stings too much to see the two of them being all cute and couple-y when all she wants is someone to hold her like that.

At least she's not the third wheel on this trip. John has agreed to come with after several convincing talks, which is kind of a relief. Four people is a good number for a roadtrip. It leaves the middle seat in the back row free but it's not too lonely. It also presents a good variety of people to talk to and you mostly have someone on your side in discussions.

  


“Excited?”, she asks John who's standing next to her, staring down at the foaming water, looking a bit weary.

“Don't tell me you're afraid of boatrides too”, she says, laughing because nine months ago she wouldn't have dared but now she knows he won't take it too serious.

“I'm not”, he replies. “But deep water...”

“That's not that deep.”

“It's a long way down there.”

“How far do you think it is?”, Hero asks, standing on her tiptoes and leaning a bit more over the railing.

“Don't!”, John hisses, pulling her back. She just laughs.

“You're scared of heights as well”, she teases. He glares at her.

“Come on.” She tugs his arm and they go sit on one of the benches, a bit away from the railing. “Wouldn't want to give you a heart attack.”

“Thanks.” It sounds just a tad sarcastic but she catches him smiling.

  


They sit on the sun deck for most of the ride because the weather is surprisingly good for April, sunny with a lot of wind. Finley takes pictures of them, their hair blowing in their laughing faces. They eat some of the vegan sandwiches Mo prepared and have to defend themselves against hungry seagulls. It's the best distraction Hero could get.

The ferry reaches Picton around noon. Moira picks up their silver Toyota Caldina from the car rental place and they load all their bags into the trunk. Finley calls shotgun and Moira drives which means John and Hero get the back seat.

“Okay, who has music requests?”, Mo asks, inspecting the stereo of the rental car. She's pulled out her iPod and finds the connection for it after a minute.

“Imagine Dragons!”

“Taylor Swift!”

“Bastille.”

Moira laughs and scrolls through her iPod for a while before pressing play. The music she picks is apparently neither Imagine Dragons nor Taylor Swift nor Bastille and while Mo starts the engine and drives off the parking space onto State Highway One, the other three are trying to guess the artist or band.

“What **is** that?”, Finley asks, trying to peek at the iPod but Moira shoos her away.

“Franz Ferdinand”, comes John's voice from the back.

“The Archduke?”, Hero asks.

Moira and Finley break into laughter in the front seats.

“The band, silly!”, Mo says, turning up the music. And suddenly both John and her start singing along.

“Ich heiße Superfantastisch! Ich trinke Schampus mit Lachsfisch!”

Hero stares at John, completely flabbergasted. He just grins.

“Ich heiße Su-per-fan-tas-tiiiiisch!”

It's bound to be a fun roadtrip.

  


They blast Bastille. They blast Imagine Dragons. They blast an obscene amount of Taylor Swift while John groans until they switch to Joy Division. They play “counting sheep”. They play “I spy”. They eat cookies and muffins and the rest of Moira's vegan sandwiches. Hero throws Skittles at John until he catches one with his mouth and collects the others from the seat and the floor of the car.

“You guys, I don't want Skittles between the car seats!”, Moira shouts from the front over the beats of Taylor Swift's newest album. “This is a rental!”

“Oops.” Hero fishes as Skittle from the crack between the seats.

“Animal, Vegetable, Mineral!”, Finley exclaims from the passenger seat. “I go first. You get to guess anti-clockwise.”

“Is it a mineral?”, John asks.

“No.”

“Vegetable?”, Hero guesses.

“Yes.”

“Is it a tree?”, Mo asks, turning down the music so they can hear each other better.

“No.”

“Is it an actual vegetable?”

“Yes.”

  


They switch seats after about three hours, stopping in a small town called Cheviot. Finley and John play rock-paper-scissors over who gets to drive, which leaves John in the driver's seat. When Hero comes back from the toilet, the only seat left is shotgun.

It gets quieter in the car as they near Christchurch and when Hero turns around, Moira and Finley have cuddled up and fallen asleep on the back seat.

“And to think we let Mo drive for three hours”, she mutters and changes the music to something a bit more calm.

“That's what she gets for not drinking coffee.”

John sips on his cup he's gotten at a petrol station half an hour ago. It surely must be cold by now. Hero watches him from the side until he glances at her.

“What?”

“Nothing”, she says, turning her eyes back on the road, smiling to herself.

  


They drive over the Waimakairi River in silence. They pull past a Burger King and Hero's stomach rumbles, making John laugh.

“Haven't you just eaten?”, he asks.

“That was two hours ago!”, Hero protests, only to be shushed by John because they have two girls in the backseat, sleeping. She turns her eyes back on the road and spots a street sign ouside. “Look, Swift Street!”

“Hero, I'm not gonna drive into a street just because it's got the same name as your favourite singer.”

“I didn't mean-” She's already checking if it's the right street name on the GPS. “Look, this is Johns Road. This is your road, John! We're driving on your road!”

“Not so loud!”, he hisses but he's grinning. “Okay, do we still have food so we can stuff your mouth?”

“Hey!”, Hero says as quietly and indignantly as possible, pulling a cotton bag from between her feet and rummaging through it. “We have these weird vegan gluten-free no-bake muesli bars that Gwen made...” Gwen is one of Moira's flatmates and she always makes the strangest snacks. Hero offers the box to John who turns up his nose at it.

“Nah.”

“C'mon, it's good for you.” She laughs.

“What else?”

“Apples and Kiwis.”

“Can I have a Kiwi?”

“Sure.” She hands him one and then turns back to the bag. “I think we have spoons here as well to eat them.”

“No need”, he mumbles. She looks up at him. He's already taken a bite out of the kiwi, skin and all. She stares at him in disbelief, mouth agape.

“How can you- You eat the skin?” She shudders in disgust. He just shrugs.

“Tastes a bit like peach skin but fuzzier.”

Hero shakes her head and looks away. She's not going to argue about it, like Bea would. She just can't imagine how Kiwi would taste with the skin. It's so... furry? She takes a Kiwi from the bag that's still in her lap and considers it for a moment. Then she carefully takes a bite. Skin and all. It tastes strange. Like Kiwi with really fuzzy peach skin. It's not bad. She could get used to it, depending on if she really wanted to.

“Look at you”, John says, grinning at her from the drivers seat. “And?”

“Weird.” She takes another bite. “Still weird. Takes some getting used to.”

“Everything does”, he says, turning his eyes back on the street.

  


They wake Moira and Finley when they're driving through Temuka, 18km from Timura. John and Moira switch seats so she can navigate around her home town the way she knows best. It's almost 6 PM when they arrive in the city and there's a general, albeit a bit tired, cheer from everyone.

“Okay, just one stop before we go to my place”, Mo says. Five minutes later they pull onto a parking space and Moira cuts the engine.

“Come on!”, she calls and jumps out of the car. They all get out and Hero has to take a moment to admire the view. They're right near the sea, at the beach. Moira is running down a small path in the dunes towards the beach and the water, with Finley close behind. They're a loud bunch, screaming and shouting, scrambling out of their shoes and storming into the water. Hero and John wander onto the beach behind them, a lot less animated but still happy they've made it.

“We shouldn't have let them sleep”, John says. “Now they'll keep us up all night.”

“Don't worry”, Hero replies. “They'll crash after they've had dinner.”

“Speaking of- has Mo actually talked to you about sleeping arrangements?”

“No. She just promised me a bed, so that's what I'm hoping for.”

“Good point.”

They drop into the sand next to each other, watching their friends dancing around in the water. The sun is just setting and it'll be dark soon.

“Hey John?”

“Yes?” He looks up at her, running his fingers through his tousled hair.

“I'm really glad you're here with us.”

“Oh.”

“No, sorry, I didn't mean- I just thought you needed to hear that.” She smiles at him. “Sometimes we tend to forget to appreciate the people around us.”

“Right.” John clears his throat, looking a bit flustered. “Well, I-”

“Oh, you don't have to say anything. I mean, you can, obviously, if you feel like it.”

He nods.

“Got it. I'll save it for a rainy day.”

 


	20. when the sun came up, you were looking at me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John's hesitant at first and then learns to relax.

“And you must be John.” He holds out a hand before Moira's mother can go in for a hug. He might be comfortable hugging Moira and Hero but people he has just met, complete strangers, he draws the line there.

“Nice to meet you, Mrs Garland”, he says, managing a halfway-smile. He is nervous as heck, being in a new environment, a guest in another person's house. He never knows how to act properly in these situations, so he mostly just retreats into his shell and watches. At least he has the other three with him to cover for him.

“Oh, call me June”, Moiras mum offers, shaking his hand. He's sure he'll have forgotten her name in a second.

  
  


He barely eats during dinner and if anyone notices, they don't mention it. When he can't finish his roasted vegetables, Finley comes in from the right with her fork, stealing bits and pieces. Apparently Moira's little sister Kiri, a latecomer baby, six years old and every bit as cheeky as Mo, thinks it's a game and steals food from his plate as well when he doesn't look, then giggles through her stuffed mouth. John decides he likes her.

“Have you decided on sleeping arrangements yet?”, Moira's mum asks while cleaning up the table. “Will's not here so you can occupy his room as well. And we can get an air mattress...”

“We'll manage”, Moira says, getting up. John's brain is already going through all the possible outcomes of this situation. The girls in Moira's room and him in Will's. All of them in Moira's room. Hero and him in Will's room. He glances at Hero. Of the three of them he'd be most comfortable sharing with her or Moira. And Moira is kind of out of the picture with Finley and everything.

They walk out to the car to get their bags and Hero stops him on the porch.

“Hey... Do you want to share Will's room with me?”, she asks quietly. “I think it'd be kind of awkward any other way, with Mo and Fin together...”

John breathes a sigh of relief.

“Yeah. Sure.”

“Great.” She grins up at him, then turns around to catch up with the other two.

  
  


Will's room is small and very simplistic in black, white and grey with shades of blue. John has only heard a few things about Moira's older brother. He's protective. He plays football. He's studying somewhere off in Australia and only comes home for Christmas.

“Well, at least he has a double bed”, Hero acknowledges, dropping her bag on the floor. “There'd be no room for an air mattress in here if you still wanted to get out.”

John inspects the few pictures that are hanging on the wall.

“Look at tiny Moira”, he says, grinning. Tiny Moira wears dungarees and has a crown of chestnut curls. Tiny Will stands behind her, blond hair askew and laughing at the camera.

“They look handsome, don't they?”, Hero mentions, pointing at a picture of Will and Moira at what looks like Will's graduation dinner. John just hums.

“Let's go and see what Moira's room looks like.”

  
  


They sleep on separate sides of the bed, with their backs turned together. He can hear Hero breathe, evenly, in and out. Unlike her he doesn't find sleep easily. There are too many impressions from the past day. He sighs and turns onto his back. Turns onto his other side. Back to his back.

“Can't sleep?”, Hero asks quietly before turning around to face him. So he's mistaken. She's not asleep.

“Not really.”

“Me neither. It's so dark in here.”

He looks at her. She's right. He can barely make out the contours of her face.

“Are you afraid of the dark?”, he asks.

“Not as much as I used to.”

They are both quiet for a moment, listening to the sounds of the wind sneaking around the house.

“Do you mind if I turn the light on and sketch a bit?”, John asks after a while.

“No, that's fine.”

He gets out of bed and rummages through his bed until he finds his sketchbook and pencils. He hesitates for a moment, then pulls out a sleek black case as well.

“You have glasses?” Hero looks surprised when he shuffles his pillows around so he can lean against the headboard.

“Uhm, yeah... I'm far-sighted but I wear contacts most of the time.” He settles down back into bed and pulls the sketchbook and pencils onto his lap. “I'm not blind without them, it's just... better for detail.”

“They look good on you”, she says with a smile. “Kind of old-school.”

He just smirks and opens his sketchbook. Sketching always calms him in a way meds never did. He starts from memory, a view through the windscreen of their rental car while driving. It covers both pages of the book and he fills it with as much detail he can remember.

There's a light snoring sound from the other side of the bed and when he checks he finds Hero has fallen asleep. He turns the page and starts sketching her face, eyelids closed, strands of hair fallen loose from her ponytail. He has the sense to take of his glasses and put them on the beside table before he slips down the headboard and falls asleep, sketchbook and pencils strewn across the covers.

  
  


They have a late breakfast the next morning and Moira shows them around town afterwards. They find out where Mo went to school. They wander the streets just chatting and enjoying their free time. They visit the Aigantighe Art Gallery where Moira wants to have her own art on exhibition after she finishes her degree.

“Just as a 'famous artists of Timaru' kind of deal”, she says with a knowing smile on her face. “For now, there's just this.”

In the South Canterbury room there's a small acrylic painting of the gallery itself. The even smaller label reads:

_Moira Garland, Mountainview High School, 2014_

It kind of pains John, that she's been that good, good enough to be featured in an art gallery, a year before he even started taking art seriously. Then again, he'd somehow gotten into Massey University, so the two years must have done him good.

  
  


“Hero, are you ready, we're gonna go-” He walks into Will's bedroom to find Hero sitting in front of her laptop on the bed, wiping tears from her eyes.

“Hey... Everything okay?” He sits down next to her, then notices the voices coming from the laptop and Ben and Bea arguing on the laptop screen. She's skyping them but they haven't noticed him yet. He puts his hand briefly on Hero's shoulder. “I'll be right back.”

He's noticed a box of tissues in the bathroom on their first night and goes to get it now. When he comes back to the room, Hero's talking to Ben and Bea again.

“Here you go.” He hands her the tissues and she smiles up at him through a veil of tears.

“Thanks.”

“Should I-?” He points to the door.

“Oh no, stay, stay.” She pats the space on the bed next to her. “I was just telling Bea and Ben about what happened with Chris.”

He sits down on the edge of the bed, giving the two people on the screen and awkward wave. “Hi.”

Bea doesn't look exactly happy to see him but he's kind of gotten used to that. Ben on the other hand waves back enthusiastically.

“Hey, John, good to see you man! How's uni?”

“It's okay... Were you just...?” He points between the laptop and Hero.

“Well, I still want to come over and kick that asshole where it hurts-”, Bea interrupts.

“Bea, it's fine, really!” Hero wipes her tears away with a tissue, effectively smearing her make-up. “I can stand up for myself, okay? I just wanted to let you know what happened-” She turns to John.

“And we gotta get going, right?”, she checks. He nods.

“Don't worry about me, okay?”, Hero says, turning back to the laptop. “I'll be fine. I have my friends to keep me company...” She nudges John.

“I don't think I'm the perfect example-”, he starts but she cuts him off.

“Oh hush! Guess what this one did?” She pulls John in frame so Bea and Ben can really see him. “He made me a cake for breaking up with the jerk.”

John blushes and lowers his head, so he doesn't really catch Ben and Bea's reaction. But it's okay, because the only thing that counts is that Hero is happy. She says her goodbyes to her cousin and Ben and then signs off on Skype and shuts down her laptop.

“Okay”, she says. “Let's go. Mo and Fin are probably getting impatient.”

“Uhm, you got a little...” He gestures at her eyes.

“What?” She wipes her eyes with a used tissue, then notices what's wrong. “Oh. Right. Make-up. Give me five minutes.” She hops off the bed and grabs her cosmetics bag off the floor. He watches her through the open doors, taking off her make-up in the bathroom and re-applying it in careful motions.

  
  


What evolves over these short two weeks is probably one of the most relaxing vacations he's ever been on. Nobody expects them to do anything. There's not much sightseeing after they've gone to all the significant places in Timaru.

The weather isn't exactly great most of the time but they spend a lot of it outside anyway. They drive out of town, to see Mount Cook and Lake Tekapo. They sit in the car in the pouring rain, listening to The Smiths, Moira and John sketching, Hero knitting because she wants to get better at it and Finley reading, waiting for the right moment when the sun breaks through the clouds so she can jump out and take pictures.

They go walking an entire day around Peel Forest, getting so lost in the forest that Moira and Hero start singing “Out Of The Woods” until John and Finley threaten to abandon them. They sit in the living room in the evening, going through pictures and sketchbooks, trying to see what the other person saw.

  
  


“Let's all dye our hair different colours”, Moira proposes one night. It's a ridiculous idea and John and Hero are the first to protest. Finley considers it for a few minutes and then decides she wants turquoise and blue. That's how Mo and Fin end up spending an entire day in a hair salon while John and Hero find themselves with the keys of their rental car and no plan what to do.

“Let's go to Duntroon”, Hero proposes, checking something on her Laptop.

“What's there?”

“Elephant Rocks.”

“What's so interesting about rocks?”

“They filmed The Chronicles of Narnia there.”

“Huh?”

Hero closes her laptop and raises her eyebrows at him.

“I will educate you later. Come on, let's go.”

  
  


Elephant Rocks is really just a bunch of limestone rocks in a farm in the middle of nowhere. But driving there with Hero on a somewhat sunny day, climbing rocks and having a picnic on one of them makes up for it. It's only a few more days until they go back home. They sit on the rocks and watch the sheep graze beneath. There are barely any tourists around, so it's mostly quiet, a nice difference from the ever-present happy chatter of the past few days.

He's almost dozed off, lying in the sun on the rock, arms crossed behind his head, when Hero's voice disrupts the silence between them.

“When did you realise you were asexual?”, she asks.

He squints at her.

“Sorry, if that's too personal”, she adds, quickly. “You don't have to-”

“No, it's fine”, he says and closes his eyes again, trying to make out a point in time where he realised that something was off.

“I had my suspicions in year nine or so”, he starts. “You know, that time where all the boys suddenly start getting interested in girls... Or boys... And I just wasn't. I didn't get what the whole talk was about. I kissed girls at games of Truth or Dare and Seven Minutes in Heaven. To me, it just was strange. I don't get what people have about the whole kissing thing, it's just... I don't like it. It feels weird”

“I get what you mean.” He can feel Hero lying down next to him, her elbow touching his ribcage. “Especially making out. Or kissing with tongue... Ew.”

They both shudder at the thought and he smiles at that. Finally someone who can relate. He's never had that before, like something clicks between them. And he feels a little bit closer to Hero than he did before.

  
  


In retrospective it all passes in the blink of an eye. They sit on the beach at Caroline Bay on their last day, waiting for the the sun to rise at seven in the morning, huddled in blankets, and he doesn't want it to end. Sure, he will see all three of them almost every day, it's not like this is their last time together. But it's something different, to go back to his flat and be on his own.

He might not be an extrovert. But he certainly appreciates having people around him. People like Moira who challenge his art. People like Finley who share his sense of humour. People like Hero who always make him feel welcome.

“We should make a wish”, Moira says. “Once the sun comes up.”

“Secret?”, Hero asks.

“Whichever way you like.”

“I wish for the people at my Resident Hall to stop listening to their music so loudly all the time”, Finley says.

“I wish for a shot at that art curator internship”, Moira says.

“I wish for feeling less lonely”, John says. The girls look at him weirdly. “What? A wish's a wish.”

“I wish for less heartbreak”, Hero says. Moira instantly puts her arm around her, then puts the other around Finley. Before he can fully realise what is happening, Hero has slipped her arm around his back as well. He glances at the girls, all arm in arm, and then complies, putting his arm around Hero's shoulder. She smiles up at him. Less heartbreak. Less feeling lonely. They can do this.

And the sun rises.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Probably the longest chapter I've written so far. Took me a while as well. I have a few ideas for upcoming chapters but yeah... How do I get where I want? I don't know yet. Give me time.


	21. this hope is treacherous, this daydream is dangerous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John moves into a new home and has to figure things out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to Ailish ([donalduke](http://donalduke.tumblr.com/)) who I believe sent me a few ideas for John's mother's maiden name some time ago. I've finally decided on one. ;)  
> Oh, also, forgot to mention. You probably already noticed but this is another case of those two-in-a-row chapters. Needed this from John's point of view.

“Hey.” He looks up. It's Finley. He still has to get used to her blue and turquoise hair. “Do you have a minute?”

“I guess”, he says, closing the book he's reading.

“I want to move out of my Resident Hall”, she starts. “I'm sick of it. People are just so ignorant and loud-”

Of all the people he would have guessed that Finley would be the least affected by it. But then there had been her wish on the last day in Timaru.

“Well, have you talked to your Residential Advisor about it?”, he asks.

“They're not exactly happy but I might get out by the end of this semester.”

“Okay... Why are you talking to me about this?”

“You wanted to feel less lonely”, Finley says. So she does actually listen. He's pleasantly surprised. “How would you like to move in with me?”

It's a surprising turn of events. He puts his head in his hands, running the fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp. It's a lot to consider. Yes, he's been living alone for the past year, mainly because he thought it'd be better like that for him. But recently he's found that company might not be so bad after all. Even if it's just Finley.

“What about Moira?”, he asks.

“Oh come on”, Finley sighs. “She's so perfectly happy in her little house with all her friends. I doubt she would consider it.”

He can hear hints of jealousy in her voice and wonders if she's jealous of him too. That he's got this close friendship with Mo, that they talk about almost everything. He wants to tell her that there's no reason for it, but it's not exactly his place to do so.

“If we find a flat-”, he starts, but Finley interrupts him.

“Now here's the thing: My aunt owns a house in Roseneath and she's moving up to take care of my gran...”

  
  


It's a small house, compared to the others in the neighbourhood, three kilometres away from university which is considerably more than the distance from his current flat. Built in the early 1900s, with two bedrooms and one bathroom. They get it part-furnished, a good thing because they have both been living in furnished rooms and aren't exactly big on money. John only buys himself a mattress and decides to get the rest second-hand somewhere during the next few weeks.

Unlike Finley who has to wait until the end of the semester to cancel her contract, he moves in at the end of May, a week after Finley's aunt has left with a van full of stuff. When they stand in the house for the first time that it's theirs to live in, it's a strange feeling.

“We have a garden”, Finley says, as if she hadn't been here times and times before. “I haven't had a garden in over a year. Heck, I have my own deck!” She runs off into the bigger of the two bedrooms, throwing herself on her aunt's bed. “This is heaven!”

John smirks and steps into his own, almost empty bedroom. It's smaller than the one he had before but brighter as well. Something he might have to get used to. He can hear Finley laugh across the hall and somehow he's happy to share this with her. She might be loud and obnoxious but in the past few weeks he's also learned that she has her quiet moments and that they agree on a lot of things, at least regarding the new home. He's learned that she comes from a rich family, full of business people, her being the black sheep, the artsy kid. She's been living in a Resident Hall because she wanted to fit in, but it only made her miserable. So to see her happy and carefree now is a good change.

  
  


Moira comes by in the evening, bringing food and wine to celebrate the new household.

“Hero's not coming?”, she asks while preparing salad in the kitchen. John shakes his head. Hero has been busy with work and a uni project lately. The last time he saw her must've been a week ago. He sent her a text to come but her reply sounded like she probably wasn't going to make it.

“What's with you two anyway?”, Mo adds. “You've gotten quite comfortable around her...”

John furrows his eyebrows. He's got a feeling what she is trying to do and he's not sure he'll like it.

“I'm comfortable around you”, he counters.

“But you don't look at me with that smile on your face.”

“I smile at you.”

“Hero gets a different smile.”

“I doubt it.”

“Get back to me when you've figured it out”, Moira says with a smirk, mixing together the salad with a dressing of oil and vinegar. He ignores her and goes to get plates to set the dining table. Because they have a dining room now. With a view on the Harbour.

“Don't turn a blind eye on love, John!”, Mo teases him from the kitchen.

Frankly it's ridiculous, he thinks. Yes, him and Hero have grown close over the past months, especially considering that only a year ago they were barely talking. He tries not to mull over it too much, that they are friends now, because every time he does it ends in self-doubt. His past has been and always will be there, in the back of his mind, haunting him. It makes their friendship a fragile thing and even if Moira is just teasing, John is afraid of the thoughts she can put in his head. Thoughts that can break such a fragile thing.

  
  


They get a little drunk on wine. Just a little. Moira and Finley probably more so. He's perfectly fine, just a little more relaxed and happy, which is a nice difference. He never looks to get drunk. He hates the feeling of losing control. But this is nice.

“John, can you get the door?”, Finley shouts over the music from the living room. He been filling the dishes into the dishwasher they now have and storing away the leftovers in the fridge, so he probably must've overheard the doorbell.

“Turn down the music!”, he shouts back. “Probably the neighbours complaining!”

Then he goes to open the front door. Outside is already dark, it's after 10 PM and they're really not expecting anyone except-

“Hero.”

“Hi.” Her smile is a bit weak, probably because it's windy and cold outside and she's wearing just a summer jacket.

“You said you couldn't come.”

“I finished my project. And then I got really hungry, so I thought I'd come over.”

He doesn't comment on the fact that they live about four kilometres away from each other now, which is like an hour to walk or thirty minutes by bike. He guesses she might have taken the bus, probably the last one.

“There's leftovers in the fridge.”, he says.

“Good, I'm starving.”

  
  


They sit on the kitchen counter, Hero eating leftovers and John drinking water for a change. Moira and Finley have excused themselves to the bedroom, Moira with a smug grin on her face. John can't tell whether it is because she's leaving him alone with Hero or because she's about to get laid. Probably both.

“Stressful week?”, he asks. Hero just hums. She doesn't talk a lot while eating, he should have figured.

“I'm really glad it's Friday”, she replies after swallowing. “And I don't have to work until Sunday afternoon, so basically, tomorrow, I'm free.”

“Sounds good.”

“Your new house is really fancy. How do you pay for all this?” She waves around at the kitchen which was obviously not very cheap.

“It's Finley's aunt's. We're kind of house-sitting, except not really. We live here, while she's up North, taking care of Fin's grandma- it's a bit complicated.”

“Is everything this fancy?”

“Well, we got to keep the kitchen and the dining room. And I think Finley actually got to keep most of her aunt's bedroom. Otherwise it's mostly unfurnished- we'll go looking for second hand furniture next week.”

“Smart move.”

“I'm really just tagging along. I mean, it was all Finley's idea...”

“Still, you decided to move in with her.”

“I guess so.”

“I think it's good for you, John.”

  
  


He shows her his room, unfurnished with a mattress and several boxes in it. It's still a mess but it's a place to sleep. They sit on the mattress, talking about what it could look like, until John starts to yawn and rub his eyes.

“Sorry”, he mutters. “Long day.”

“You should take out your contacts”, Hero says. He nods, getting up, pulling a bag of toiletries from one of the boxes. It only takes a few minutes and he comes back with his glasses on. Hero grins up at him.

“What?”

“I don't think I'll ever get used to you wearing glasses.”

He shakes his head and sits back down.

“How are you going to get home?”, he asks. She plays with the hem of her sweater.

“I think I'm gonna crash here”, she replies. “If that's okay-”

“It's fine.” He's surprised at how easily the answer comes, without much thinking about it. Hero wants to stay over, so what? They have shared a bed before. A strange thing to do for two people who have both previously stated that neither of them likes sharing beds. But sometimes you get used to things and you learn that it's actually quite nice. Like closeness. With certain people.

  
  


“I should tell you something”, he says quietly, leaning back to look up at the ceiling so not to face Hero.

“What is it?” He can tell from her voice that she's nervous. But he feels like she should know, like he can trust her with this. Apart from her, only his family and Moira know.

“Nothing scary- it's about my name. My last name.”

“Donaldson?”

“Yeah- that's not my last name.”

He looks at her for reaction. She seems surprised. So he starts from the beginning. He tells her the whole story, about how his mum was just a one-night-stand of his father's, on a business trip to England. How she raised him herself, despite the circumstances. He tells Hero about his mother's death and the ultimate chaos that ensued when he found out he had a father and a brother halfway around the world in New Zealand.

“My dad took me in, Ann adopted me”, he explains. “There was a lot of legal work involved and in the process I became a Donaldson.”

“Do you have any family in England?”, Hero asks when he doesn't continue immediately. He nods.

“My mum's brother”, he says. “He lives in London with his family. Haven't seen them in years. They have a daughter about our age.”

“And your name-?”

“I'm a Donaldson on paper. But I'm thinking about changing it back. I could, probably.”

“You know it would cut any connection to your family, right?”

“No. It would mean reconnecting with my family. My real family.”

“John...” Hero puts a hand on his shoulders. His first instinct is to shrug it off because he hates it when people are trying to be compassionate. But this is Hero and he doesn't want to scare her away.

“I don't know”, he mutters. “I just think I need the distance. I need to live life on my own terms and with my own choices. Like my name. I don't want it to be just another memory of the past.”

Hero nudges him. He looks at her.

“What's your name?”, she asks, smiling.

“John Young”, he says. It sounds like a sigh of relief.

“Nice to meet you, John Young.”

  
  


He can't remember falling asleep, they talk for a long time after that. He wakes, a bit disoriented. New room, he realises. New house. He's slept in his clothes and the weirdest thing – he wakes up with his arm around someone. He wakes with his arm around Hero.

He wouldn't call it cuddling. He's half-lying on his stomach with one arm thrown over Hero who has her back turned to him. It's more like sharing a bed and lying very close to each other. And it scares him.

It scares him because the first thought that comes to mind when he wakes is: _This_ _feels_ _good_ _._

His heart is picking up speed, he just lies there, not moving, not sure what to do, if he's about to panic or anything. He's trying to calm his breathing. How did this happen? How did they end up on the bed, blankets pulled halfway over them, his arm across her sleeping body? He tries to think back, trying to figure out what happened, but he draws a blank. Not like a blackout or anything, the details are simply blurred, like his vision. There's a brief memory of hands running through his hair, massaging his head. But that couldn't have been Hero, could it?

Hero lets out a deep sigh which makes him hold his breath for a second. But she's not waking up or anything and he decides he has to do something about the situation at hand. He has to move. He carefully takes his arm off of Hero and slips out from under the blankets. She doesn't even react. So he quietly picks up his glasses from where they are lying on the windowsill and sneaks out of the room.

  
  


He grabs his jacket and keys and heads out. If anything he needs some fresh air to clear his mind right now. He walks up the winding streets of Roseneath, hand in his pockets. It's dawning and when he gets up to the Mount Victoria Lookout, the sun has already risen over Wellington. The wind blows over the hill, like it does almost every day, and John just stands there, staring down on the city that is his home now, has been slowly becoming it over the past year.

He tries to focus on what exactly is going on, but his mind just keeps presenting him with images of Hero. Hero hugging him. Hero putting her head on his shoulder. Hero smiling at him. Hero teasing him. Hero lying in his bed, his arm around her.

The more he thinks about it, how good it felt to be that close to her, the more confused he gets. This isn't a simple problem that can be solved with a yes or no answer. This isn't a simple anything. This is complex, blurred and painful to think about. Over the past few years he's slowly gotten used to tapping into his own emotions and express them in a healthy way. But right now he doesn't even know what his emotions are.

He sits down on the grass, trying to analyse himself. He's panicking, first and foremost, about something that happened. Something that wasn't supposed to happen. Something about Hero. And amidst his panic, one thing is slowly dawning on him: He might have been wrong about his own assumption of him being aromantic.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked this chapter and it's not moving along too fast. Let me know. I love comments!


	22. I've never heard silence quite this loud

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hero finds it hard to communicate with a silent John.

She wakes in an empty bed with a strange feeling in her chest. It takes her a moment to realise that she's not in her own bed. It's John's. In the new house he's going to live in, with Finley. Hero turns over and looks up at the blank white walls. The sun is falling through the big window over her head but it doesn't reach her on the mattress.

She sits up checking the room for any sign of an alarm clock somewhere. She finds her phone on the windowsill, next to John's, and checks it. 9:37 AM. It's a good thing she has her day off today. She yawns and stretches before getting up to look for John. Maybe he's made breakfast.

  
  


Finley and Moira are already up, sitting in the dining room and drinking tea. Or coffee, in Finley's case.

“Good morning sleepyhead”, Moira greets her with a smile. “How's John's mattress?”

“Good”, Hero replies sheepishly, running her fingers through her hair. She probably looks like a mess, clothes all crumpled and hair askew.

“John's still asleep?”, Finley asks.

“No... I thought he was out here?”

“Hmm.” Moira shrugs. “Probably out and about. He does that sometimes.”

Hero hums and fixes her hair up in a ponytail before disappearing into the kitchen to make some tea. She finds it strange for John to simply wander off like that without leaving a note. But maybe she doesn't know him as well as Moira does.

They're close, John and Hero, a lot closer than she would have though they'd ever be. They've shared stories and secrets and cupcakes and beds. But she can feel him detach himself sometimes, like he's not sure if he's even allowed to be like that with her. She can tell that he's not ready to let go of the past yet and she wants him to get better but she feels like it's not her place to do so. She's his friend, not his therapist.

  
  


John shows up half an hour later, his hair a mess from the wind. He looks tired and a bit worried which makes Hero worry herself. He doesn't say where he's been, just offers a quiet hello and slips into the kitchen to get something to eat. Hero and Moira exchange questioning looks but neither says anything.

Something has obviously happened and John won't talk about it. So they act like nothings wrong, for his own sake, have a long breakfast and make plans for the house. Finley insists that John and her won't be talked into anything, but she has to admit that Moira has some really good ideas for the dining and living room.

“We should go opshopping today!”, Mo suggests. The other two girls agree immediately, but John seems a bit wary.

“I just don't feel like going out today”, he mutters. Moira raises an eyebrow.

“Okay”, Hero says to break the tension. “Then we'll go just the three of us. It should be fun.”

Moira gets up and clears the table.

“I'll call Gwen”, she says. “She might know a few more shops than I do. Ready in half an hour?”

  
  


John disappears almost immediately into his room but Hero's quick to follow him.

“What's wrong?”, she asks, closing the door behind herself. John blinks at her.

“Nothing.”

She lets out a sigh.

“Did I do something wrong?”, she continues. She tries to think back to last night, but in her mind it's all just comfortable talking and sharing stories.

“No, no, it's just- Something I have to figure out on my own, okay?”

“And I can't help?”

“No.”

“Can I at least give you a hug?”, she offers. “Because you look like you need one.”

His internal struggle is obvious but she doesn't point it out. In the end he just nods. He's stiff at first, when she wraps her arms around him, but she can feel him relax after a while. Sure, it doesn't solve the problem but it doesn't make her feel completely helpless either.

  
  


She doesn't see a lot of him the next few days. They're both not the best at communicating and making plans but this is different. According to Moira he's only been by her house a few times, mostly just to talk to Anaru, one of her housemates who's good at woodwork.

“I think he's planning on doing a lot of DIY in his room, but he won't talk to me about it either”, Mo says on the phone. “And he says he's fine. I asked him about therapy but I don't think that's it. Must be something else.”

“I just don't know what could've tipped him”, Hero sighs. “He seemed perfectly fine on Friday and then the next day...”

“Did you say anything to him that night?” It's not an accusing tone that Moira uses but Hero finds herself worrying that she did something wrong after all, even though John has assured her she didn't.

“Nothing I could think of. We were just talking. Like we usually do.”

“Hero, I think- never mind.”

“What?” She's immediately all ears, wanting to know what Moira has to say on the matter. After all, Mo knows how to read people and she's usually good at knowing what's wrong.

“Nothing, I just remembered something. I'll have to call you back, okay?”

“Okay...”

Moira hangs up and Hero's even more puzzled and confused. First John's not talking and now Mo hides things from her as well. It makes her worry if something is wrong with her. She racks her brain for any indications of something amiss, but she can't figure it out.

  
  


Mid-year break comes up sooner than expected. Or at least that's what it feels like. She's going back to Auckland for the three weeks, taking the plane since John isn't coming. She hasn't been over at his place again since he moved in, but apparently his room still isn't finished.

It's kind of awkward because they haven't really found time to talk, mostly because he doesn't answer her texts or calls, and she still has that feeling that something she did set him off, that she hurt him in a way and he won't tell her. It hurts her herself to see him slowly pulling away. She misses having him around but even when she comes by in his art lab to see how he's doing, there's a distance there.

So she sits on a plane to Auckland, alone, scribbling in her notebook, sketching ideas for a project next semester and listening to music through her headphones. “Dear John” comes on and she nearly skips it because she doesn't need sad hurting Taylor Swift right now, it reminds her too much of Chris (despite the obvious name reference to someone else) and the weeks of heartbreak. But then she hesitates and listens. And writes down the two words. _Dear John._

  
  


One hour on the plane isn't nearly enough to compose an entire letter. But it's enough to get the idea in her head. Her smile is a bit brighter when her mum and mumma come to pick her up in Auckland, hugging her close as a welcome.

They have a lovely dinner with vegetarian lasagna and Hero has to tell all about her first semester as a Fashion Design student and that exciting road trip down South. She can see in their smiles that her mothers are proud of her. And it's nice to have them just for herself, listening.

Leo will be coming home next week and she's bracing herself for being treated like she's made of glass again. Because that's what he does, ever since that sixteenth birthday, ever since he picked Claudio's side over hers and then learned he was wrong. So darn wrong. And he's been trying to make amends but it only results in him being overprotective and she doesn't want that. She can be her own protection now.

  
  


“So how is John doing?”, her mumma asks.

“I think he's good”, Hero says hesitantly. “Been a bit busy lately. He just moved into a new home, with Finley.”

“His girlfriend? Boyfriend?”

Hero laughs at the idea of Finley and John being together.

“No, Finley is Moira's girlfriend”, she explains. “Finley's aunt has a house in Wellington and she just moved up North to take care of Finley's grandma, so now the house is vacated and Finley and John moved in there- It's actually really nice, with a garden and a deck and two bedrooms...”

“That sounds nice.”

“Yeah.”

“I think it's good you two have become friends”, her mum offers. “The poor boy needs some light in his life.”

“Mum, please.” Hero raises her eyebrows. “You make it sound like John's broken and I'm angel sent from heaven to save him. He's not and I am neither. You shouldn't dehumanise people.”

It's very silent at the dinner table for a moment. She's never been this defensive before and she can feel the tension it creates between them. But she's not going to apologise for her behaviour. She's not their practically-perfect-in-every-way daughter any more. She's got bruises and scars and she's hardened up to life.

Her mum clears her throat.

“I'm sorry, Hero”, she says.

“Apology accepted.”

  
  


It's past midnight when she finally gets up to her room and unpacks her bag, putting all the carefully folded clothes into the free space she keeps for them in her closet, hanging up the two dresses she brought along. One of them is her own design, a dark blue linen dress with small silver beads on them, made to look like the constellations of the winter sky.

She puts on some yoga pants and an old sweatshirt before checking her drawers to find some stationary. It's got flowers on them but it's better than pages ripped out of a notebook. She sits at her desk for a long time, the fairy lights in the background and her desk lamp the only source of light in the room, thinking about what to write. Finally she starts like intended.

  
  


_Dear John,_

_we haven't been talking a lot recently and I thought maybe a letter would make the communication a bit easier for both of us. Especially now that there's a physical distance of around 500 km between us._

_I know you've said before that I didn't do anything wrong. You assured me it was a problem that you had to figure out on your own and I respect that._

_Still, I can't help but feel like you've been avoiding me recently. Not just in a “I've got a lot of stuff to do” way but in a “I'd rather not talk to you” way. Which makes me doubt your previous statement that I didn't do anything wrong. Because if I had done nothing wrong, why would you avoid me?_

_Let me rephrase my question: Have I done or said anything, even unintentionally or subconsciously, that could have hurt you? Or are you simply too embarrassed or uncomfortable to talk to me about it? Have you been able to talk to Mo about it? I would completely understand if that is the case, I just don't want things to be this strange between us._

_John, I'd like to think that I've gotten to know you over the past six months and this is nothing like you. I know you don't always like to talk about things but you come around eventually. I've learned so much about you and from you and you've become one of my closest friends in Wellington, someone I would surely trust with anything. I stand by what I said in Timaru: I'm glad you're here with us. I'm glad we get to share this time of our lives together, even if sometimes it's messy and complicated and not quite clear. To quote Taylor Swift (something I know you're going to roll your eyes at): “We're happy, free, confused and lonely at the same time.” Even if we're not 22 yet._

_I started writing this letter to you with the full intention of trying to uncover whatever it is that's keeping you from talking to me. But that is probably something to be solved in an actual conversation instead of the typical one-sided letter-writing. I just want to tell you, it takes everything in me not to call you. And I wish I could run to you... Ooops, there I go, quoting Taylor Swift again. You have to excuse me, she's been a constant musical companion throughout my teenage years and there's always a song that fits my current situation._

_I know this is not exactly a long letter, more like a long handwritten note, deep in your pocket. Well, not yet. But I'll send it. Tomorrow. I promise. Well, you'll only know of my promise once you get this letter, so it's kind of unnecessary to tell you this... I'm running off the tracks again. Sorry._

_Please let me know when you've gotten this letter. Just a small text will suffice. We don't need to have a conversation immediately. But I think we'll need to eventually. Let me know when you're ready. Because I didn't even write half the things I wanted to._

_Love, Hero_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for all the Taylor Swift references! You should've been expecting this from me by now. It's kind of like a game. Wanna play? ;)


	23. you were too afraid to tell her what you want

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John confesses - but not everything to everyone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm just a bit sorry that this chapter is mostly about interior design, DIY and opshopping. I couldn't help it. I was arranging their house in my head.

Distance and silence protect him. He can tell that Hero and Moira are worried about him, so he tries to hush up the reason for it by delving into construction work on the house, specifically his own room. Before moving to Wellington he'd cared little for living aesthetics. He'd found a small, furnished apartment which suited him. But then he'd met Moira who'd introduced him to her household.

The shared house that Mo lives in is a cosy place, full of warmth and an assortment of second-hand and antique furniture, as well as roadside finds and DIY.  He discovers something new every time he 's there.  He's not exactly friends with any of Moira's housemates but when he moves into the new house with Finley and starts considering what to do with his room, he thinks of Anaru.

  
  


Anaru is a 25-year-old student of engineering, which maybe explains his love for anything DIY. He's furnished his whole room himself and has done a lot of refurbishing in the house, which makes him the perfect contact for John.

When John first asks him for help, he laughs. Then he looks at John, who doesn't laugh.

“You're serious about this?”, he asks.

“Yes.”

“Have you ever held a drilling machine?”

“I've once built a bird feeder.”

“This is going to take some hard work on your side.”

“But you think I can do it?”

“With my help, probably.”

They spend the next two weeks before mid-year-break making plans and collecting supplies for what would certainly have turned out to be a disaster if Anaru hadn't agreed to help. John considers himself the creative part of the operation but he soon learns that Anaru has way more experiences and knows what they're. John might've kicked off the project but Anaru is carrying it out.

  
  


It's a defence mechanism, the delving-into-work-thing, he knows that. But he needs time to figure things out and he might as well spend it working. It's going surprisingly well until Moira calls him one Tuesday evening.

“Did something happen between Hero and you?”, she opens the conversation. Straightforward, like always. No pretence there. He lets out a sigh.

“What are you referencing?”, he asks. Might as well pretend like nothingis going on.

“I was teasing you on Friday night and I left you alone with Hero and the next thing I know you're running off in the morning and don't talk to her any more. So what happened?”

He doesn't answer. He knows too well that Moira is already onto him and it's like walking on a tightrope. Anything he could say or do could only make it worse.

“Was I right?”, Moira asks, a little more quiet. “I'm sorry I teased you, but was I right about it?”

“Kind of”, he mutters.

“I'll be right over.”

  
  


They sit in silence for a long time, in his construction site of a room. Finally Moira asks: “Why aren't you talking to her?”

“It's complicated.”

“I'm not saying you should talk to her about it, I'm just saying you shouldn't completely shut her off. She's worrying, you know?”

“Yes, I know.”

“Good.”

“It's horrible though, isn't it?”

“Why?”

John runs his hands through his hair and tries to figure out how to put it into words.

“Because it's such a cliché, isn't it? The bad boy falling for the good girl...”

“You're not a bad person and Hero isn't all good either”, Moira interrupts him. “The world isn't black and white. Don't ridicule or dramatise what you're feeling, John.”

“But how- this wasn't supposed to happen!” He groans, putting his head in his hands. “I had it all perfectly sorted out, boundaries and everything. And then it all went haywire over one little thing.”

Mo nudges him and when he looks at her she's smiling.

“What happened?”, she asks.

“We- we slept in a bed together- you probably know that.” Might as well call it what it was. He spits out the word, shuddering. “There was cuddling involved.”

He expects cooing or laughter from Mo, but she just asks: “How was it?”

Over all the worrying and suppressing he has completely forgotten to acknowledge one simple fact: His initial feelings about the situation, the ones that slipped through his fingers the moment he woke and came to realisation on what was going on.

“It was nice”, he says quietly, for a lack of a better word.

“Do you want to do it again?”

Instead of an answer he just groans, which makes her laugh and ruffle his hair.

“Indulge in it a little, John”, she says. “It's the greatest feeling in the world.”

“I think it's the worst.”

  
  


With Anaru's help he finishes the construction work in his room on the first weekend of mid-year-break. He thought it'd take longer but they scrap a lot of his plans after finding some great furniture while opshopping with Finley for the living room. He gets lucky with an antique chest of drawers and finds a desk that's just big enough to fit into the corner of his room where he wants it.

They do however build a platform bed , which fills the whole short side of the room and raises his mattress right onto the height of the window.  It leaves a lot of storage room beneath the bed, even though John doesn't have exactly much to store.

“It'll happen eventually”, Anaru says while installing a light under the bed so you can actually see what's down there. “When you get your own tools and such. You'll want to hide them away were not everyone can see them”

They have covered the front side underneath the platform with shelves, which he's slowly filling with books, except for a small entryway to the hidden storage room. He plans on hanging a curtain in front of it so it's not a gaping hole, but he hasn't found one the right length yet. Maybe if he goes back to Auckland sometime next week and check the opshops there, he'll get lucky.

  
  


There's celebratory pizza in the evening with Moira, who's still there, and Finley. And they're all laughing over some joke that Anaru made and it hits John, how strange it is that they've become something like friends over the past few weeks, just by working together.

“Thanks for helping me out”, he says when Anaru packs up his tools into his small, beat-up car later on. “I don't think it would have worked out without you.”

“Nah, no problem bro.” Anaru slaps him on the shoulder. “You're a quick learner.”

“If there's anything I can help you with in return-”

John lets the end of that sentence hang in the air. Anaru cocks his head to the side and looks at him.

“I might get back to you on that one”, he says with a grin. “You're pretty talented, man. Might get you to paint something for me.”

“I've never done commissions, but sure.” John nods. “See you around then?”

“See you later, man.” Anaru gets into his car. “Have fun sleeping in your new bed!”

John just grins and gives him a short nod before heading back into the house. He feels strangely accomplished and much better now that they're done with the main work. Starting tomorrow it's only cleaning up and decorating. He already has a few plans for the walls.

  
  


“John, you've got mail!”

Finley's just come home from groceries shopping and he can hear her dump the bags onto the kitchen counter through his open door. He's got music playing and is painting the wall over the foot of his bed with chalkboard paint. Took a lot of convincing and protest from Moira for him to not paint the entire wall and just a small square.

Finley knocks on his doorframe.

“I'm painting”, he says. “Put it on the desk.”

The desk is a cluttered mess of paper and books and art utensils at the moment. Finley drops an envelope on it, then steps over a few boxes on the floor.

“I can't believe you're actually doing this chalkboard thing”, she says. “You know you're supposed to paint small rooms in light colours so they appear bigger.”

“Well, I have a plan”, John says. “And it needs a chalkboard in my room. Besides, it's only this square over the bed, it's not like I'm painting the whole room.”

“Thank god.”

“You're not gonna do anything on your room?”

“Not a paint job, no. I admire your commitment though.”

“Thanks.” John smirks and wipes his hands on the old sweatshirt he's wearing. It's probably the ugliest thing that Finley could find in the opshop but he needed some clothes for painting the walls, so he'd bought it.

“You shout if you need help, okay?”, Finley asks.

“Sure. You want me to turn down the music?”

“Nah, I don't mind it. What's this, Arcade Fire?”

“I think. I've had my laptop on shuffle for the last hour.”

“Okay.” Finley nods. “Lunch in an hour? I'm gonna make pasta.”

“Sounds good.”

  
  


He finishes the first coat of paint half an hour later. It'll need a second one but he'll work on that after lunch, so he steps down from the ladder and goes to wash his hands in the bathroom. He's even got paint in his hair but chances are it's gonna come out when he'll take a shower later. If not he'll just have to cut it. It's getting shaggy anyway.

When he gets back to the room he's almost forgotten about the letter. It falls on the floor when he's looking through his notes and sketches for the decoration on the wall opposite the giant chalkboard he's working on. He picks it up and reads the address. Perfectly neat handwriting that seems familiar. He's not expecting mail and he's still in the process of telling his new address to all the important contacts like uni and such. When he turns the envelope around, there's a return address on the back. _Hero Duke_.

His breath hitches. His first instinct is to run and hide. What would Hero have to write him for? Maybe Mo talked to her. But she promised she wouldn't. Or Hero figured things out herself. Could be anything really. He picks up a pair of scissors and opens the envelope with shaking hands.

He reads it once. Then again. Then puts it down, breathing a sigh of relief. It's nothing but typical Hero, worrying and caring. And lots of Taylor Swift quotes. He was too nervous to roll his eyes at that during the first read but now it brings a smile to his face. He picks up the letter again, then folds it and stuffs it into the pocket of his jeans. It gives him something to think about.

  
  


After he's finished painting the second coat and has cleaned up after himself, showered and even gotten the paint out of his hair, he goes to sit on the deck. It's a sunny day in Wellington for a change, still windy but at least not raining. He picks up his phone and finds her contact. He considers it but there's really no choice in this. So he calls her.

It takes her a while to pick up and he's always ready to hang up when she finally does.

“John, hey!”

“Hi.”

He can't help the smile that spreads on his face. It feels good to hear her voice.

“I got your letter today”, he says. “Thank you.”

“Oh. It was nothing, really. I love writing letters.”

“I haven't gotten a handwritten letter in a long time.”

“You should try writing one. It's very therapeutic.”

“Maybe some other time. I have a lot of stuff to do at the moment.”

“Of course. How's the house coming along?”

“Good. I'm still working on my room most of the time-” He doesn't really know what to tell her about it, so he cuts to the point. “Listen, I wanted to apologise for kind of shutting you out for the past few weeks. That was uncalled for. It wasn't your fault or anything, it was just me kind of... falling back into old habits.”

The line is silent for a moment. Then Hero clears her throat. “Apology accepted.”

He lets go of a breath he didn't know he was holding.

“You don't even know the whole story”, he says.

“Do you want to talk about it now?”, she asks. “Because I have time...”

He considers it for a moment. He's not ready to confess anything. He's still not quite sure what he really wants. In fact, it would be in his best interest to just keep quiet about it, altogether, forever. But he's got to talk about **something**.

“Do you remember when you asked me to tell you if I didn't feel comfortable being touched?”, he starts hesitantly. “It's months ago but-”

“Yeah, sure... Oh no. What happened?”

He scratches the back of his head, not sure how to put it best.

“Do you remember cuddling with me when you stayed over?”

“No... maybe?”

He sees it in front of his eyes, clearly, the face she's probably pulling right now, the “oops, awkward” face. It makes him smile, despite the fact that he's still nervous about talking to her.

“Well, I woke up with my arm around you- so that happened. And then I panicked, because you know, closeness and boundaries...”

“I'm so sorry, John”, Hero says, sounding distressed. “I shouldn't have- It was probably unconsciously but still. I've been very... cuddly... lately.” She laughs, a short nervous laugh.

“Wait, you wanted to cuddle?”, John asks, now even more confused about the whole situation.

“Not fully intentional?”

“But you're fine with cuddling?”

“Well not if it makes you panic and feel like you can't talk to me for weeks afterwards! Obviously?”

John can't help it. He starts laughing. Because this is so awkward and strange it's almost ridiculous. Hero's giggling on the other end as well. Which throws him into a laughing fit because her giggles are so high-pitched it sounds almost comedic.

“Why are we laughing?”, Hero finally pants, trying to calm down her breathing.

“I don't know”, John snorts. “This is such a weird conversation.”

It takes them another three minutes to calm down enough to continue talking in normal voices.

“Okay, so no cuddling”, Hero sums up.

“At least give me a heads-up.”

“I wouldn't want to make you uncomfortable.”

“It was just unexpected, Hero.”

  
  


He's freezing when he gets back into the house and it's already dark outside, but he can't seem to wipe that smile off his face. He's lucky Finley's staying over at Moira's or else he'd get strange looks. His room smells like paint which is probably not the best place to spend a night, so he cleans up a bit more and then drags his blanket and pillow into the living room.

While he's been working on his room, Moira and Finley have been letting their creative spirits go wild on the biggest part of the house – the living and dining room. When John moved in it held nothing but an old dining table and four green wooden chairs which apparently Finley's aunt had no need for any more. But since then the room has quickly been filled with two sofas, plants, pillows and colourful blankets. The walls are still bare except for an old antique world map that Finley found a few days ago in a small second-hand shop downtown. They're also looking for a fitting coffee table and some nice curtains to hang up, but all in all, it looks much more homely.

He settles down on the bigger of the two couches, still having to prop his legs up on the armrest so it fits. It's been an eventful day, in many ways, and he still can't quite grasp it. He mentally checks off all the things that still need to be done in his room and the ones that Finley needs help with in the living room. It's slowly coming along.

And then there's Hero. Talking to her again has been a relief. He's been a coward for not doing it earlier, he admits that now. But he can't bring himself to confess anything other than the simple surge of panic he felt about waking up with his arm around her. It's too scary a thought to delve into, woven together with insecurities and ghosts of the past. He can admire her from afar and be her friend, cautiously, but anything else would be just too cruel a joke. So he hides that thought in the back of his mind, hoping it wont escape through his lips.

 


	24. but on a Wednesday in a café I watched it begin again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hero watches it begin again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is it. The idea on which I started this whole fanfic. Hope I can live up to it.

She's glad she didn't book her plane ticket back to Wellington in advance. Because one week into their three-week-break she gets a text from John.

_Coming up to Auckland on Monday to pick up some stuff for my room. Staying a week. Want to hang out? - John_

She calls him immediately because as much as she loves her friends in Auckland, he's something else entirely. He belongs to a new life for her. He belongs to Wellington and having him in Auckland means not having to put on a different face for at least the few hours they get to hang out.

Secondly, if he comes up to Auckland to pick up stuff, he'll most likely have a rental car or something, which would spare her the money for a plane ticket.

And finally, thirdly, she has to admit she misses him. Not in a “I miss my Wellington folks” kind of way but a “I miss my best friend” kind of way. Because who else is there to laugh at her inside jokes and willing to talk to her for hours? Bea and Ben are still far away in Scotland, arguing over when best to get married or if a long engagement is more likely their style.

  
  


They agree to get coffee, or tea in her case, because they both want to get out of their houses. Leo has just come home as well and things have been a bit tense. He can't understand that she's growing up, that she doesn't need protection any more. He still treats her like she's little and it's exhausting.

Even when she's getting ready, putting on a light grey cardigan over that linen dress she designed herself, checking her red lipstick in the hallway mirror one last time before slipping into her leather Mary Janes, he's there.

“Where are you going?”, he asks.

“Out”, she mutters.

“Come on, Hero, don't be like that.”

“Like what?”

“All... one-syllable.”

“Well, as long as you refuse to treat me like an adult, I will refuse to act like one around you.”

She picks up her messenger bag and grabs her keys, ignoring her older brother's protests and walking out the door.

  
  


The café they have agreed on meeting at is one of her favourites. She takes the bus there, checking her phone for the time as she gets off. John is probably running a bit late anyway. He's told her he has errands to run in the morning so he's not sure if he'll be there on time.

But he is. When she walks in, the door chime on it announcing her entrance, she spots him, rising from his seat in the corner seat in the back, giving her a small wave. All bitterness towards her brother and the recent stress with having to choose what courses to take next semester is gone in an instant. She smiles, walking over to him, a new spring in her step.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

They hug and it feels like forever since they've last done that.

“Have you grown taller?”, he asks, letting out a short laugh.

She smiles and points to her shoes. “I'm wearing heels.”

“Well, it's certainly nice to have you a little closer.” He looks flustered just a second later, realising what he said. “I didn't mean-”

“It's fine.” She shrugs off her red pea coat and sets her messenger bag down on the floor next to the small table he's been sitting at.

“Here, let me get that.” He pulls out a chair for her and takes her coat to hang it away on a coat rack next to his dark grey winter jacket.

Maybe he can tell she's a bit under the weather because he's being nothing but thoughtful towards her, asking her how she's doing and what tea she'd like. But it also feels like something changed, something in the way he looks at her. It makes her heart skip a beat.

  
  


She watches him talk about his room in the new house and smiles to herself. She's never seen him this enthusiastic about anything and for a change it's him who's leading the conversation, not her. He sketches pictures in his notebook to underline his words and they eat cheesecake and drink tea. She shows off her dress, blushing when he compliments her on it. He's done that before she tells herself, but this seems different.

They make plans about when to go back to Wellington, because before Hero can even ask, John is already offering, seeing as he still has room in his car. He's going back one week before uni starts again and as much as Hero loves her parents, John's whole talking about his room has made her kind of restless to do something about her own room as well. So why not use the last week of break to do a little bit of redecorating? After over two years a change is always nice.

She talks about a book she's reading right now, about a writer after World War 2, living on a small island in the English Channel, and she catches him looking at her, smiling. Something in her chest flutters, like a bird wanting to break free. She bites her lip and looks away. _Not now_ , she tells herself. But it makes her happy, she can't deny that.

  
  


“I made you something”, she says, pulling a small gift wrapped in brown paper out of her bag. He looks at her curiously.

“Why?”

“Just something I thought you could need”, she replies, avoiding his eyes.

“Thanks.” When she looks up there's a tiny smile playing around his lips and he pulls the gift over to his side of the table, carefully untangling the ribbon.

“I've been knitting a lot for uni recently and I thought you might like this”, she offers when he pulls out a black beanie.

“You knit this?”

“Yeah.”

“This looks so professional. It even has- what do you call it?”

“It's lining”, she explains. “My knitting is still a bit loose so I worried that it might not keep your ears warm properly, so I've sewn in a lining.”

“It's silver”, he points out.

“Yeah”, she says with a tiny smile. “It's a silver lining.”

He looks at her for a moment, probably trying to grasp what just happened. Then he laughs, in a way she's never seen him laugh before. It starts slowly, bubbling under the surface until he can't seem to contain it any more, throwing his head back laughing like a little kid.

It's contagious and soon she's laughing too, at that ridiculous pun she's made, in form of a hat, lying between them on the table. It's taken her three weeks and the reaction from John makes it all worth the time. It's priceless and beautiful.

  
  


She never would have expected it but during that afternoon she slowly falls in love again. It's like slipping into an old comfortable sweater that you had lying so deep in your closet that you almost forgot about it and when you finally find it again, it's like coming home. And you never want to take it off again.

She falls in love despite of herself. She falls in love despite of all the heartbreak she's gone through for the last eight month and she falls in love despite of them being best friends. Maybe she even falls in love because of that. Because she's gotten to know him better than any boy she met before, because this is not just falling in love, this is realising someone you deeply care about is so beautiful, inside out, that you want to be with them, all the time.

And on that Wednesday, in a café somewhere in Auckland, Hero watches it begin again.

  
  


He picks her up a few days later to drive back down to Wellington, wearing the hat she knit him. She can only see a hint of silver lining but it still makes her grin. Her mumma shoots her a questioning look but she ignores it. There's nothing to talk about, for now this is just for her to enjoy.

John helps her lift her bag into the trunk of the car. It's a rental, just like expected, loaded with boxes in the back seat. His room in Auckland must look so deserted by now. But he's got a new home in Wellington, one he actually likes. She can hear it in the way he talks about it.

Her mum runs into the house and comes back with an almost-forgotten lunch package she made for them, all packed up in a beautiful new cotton bag with flowers printed all over it. They store it in the footwell of the passenger seat and Hero hugs her mothers goodbye one last time. It's always a bit sad to see them go but she's looking forward to Wellington more now than she did back in summer.

“Ready?”, John asks. She gets into the car and fastens her seatbelt.

“Yeah”, she says, grinning. “Let's get out of this town.”

“Drive out of the city, away from the crowds”, John mutters.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Did you just quote Taylor Swift at me, John Young?”, she asks excitedly.

“Did you just call me John Young?”, he retorts but she can tell he's trying not to laugh.

“I just might have.”

John just shakes his head and turns on the radio, driving through Auckland and then heading into the direction of State Highway One.

  
  


“I've got something for you”, he says when they're stopping at a red light just before the highway. He pulls out his iPod and connects it to the stereo.

“What?”, she asks nervously.

“Hold on. Right... here. Hey, no peeking!” He shoos her away from the stereo and she laughs. A few seconds later she stops, turns and looks at John. The first familiar beats come through the speakers of the car. Her mouth drops. A few seconds later the guitar comes into play.

“You- OH MY GOD!”, she cries. “You did not just- What?”

“I'm walking fast through the traffic lights”, Taylor Swift starts to sing from the speakers. “Busy streets and busy lives-”

“YOU GOT TAYLOR SWIFT ON YOUR IPOD?”, Hero squeals. She's never this loud normally, but this is a complete surprise for her. John laughs and starts driving again because the light just turned green and they drive onto the highway with Taylor Swift blasting through the speakers. It's glorious.

“Did Moira share her iTunes library with you?”, Hero asks as the last chords of “State of Grace” fade out.

“No. I got them myself.”

“What?”

“All six albums.”

“What?”

“Hero, we have an eight hour drive ahead of us.”

She can't help but laugh. This is probably the best thing he could give her in return for a hat with silver lining. He's even made a playlist of the most upbeat songs that are perfect for a road trip, leaving out all the sad melodies about heartbreak and disappointment. She looks over at him but his eyes are fixed on the road, a smile curling in the corner of his mouth.

_I was riding shotgun, with my hair undone, In the front seat of his car. He's got a one-hand feel on the steering wheel, the other on my heart._

  
  


“Lunch at Lake Taupo?”, she asks. She's getting quite hungry.

“Sounds good.” John is drumming along to the beat on the steering wheel. Hero's changed the music after an hour to something not Taylor Swift. She's not even sure what this is now.

“Do you want me to drive after?”

“If you want.”

“Sure.”

Chris never let her drive his car. They never went on a lot of long road trips either but that's not the point. She almost brings it up but the music is just changing and for a moment it's strangely quiet in the car. And then-

_I'm coming out of my cage and I’ve been doing just fine, gotta gotta be down because I want it all. It started out with a kiss, how did it end up like this? It was only a kiss, it was only a kiss..._

She stares at John. He looks back at her for a second. And as soon as the refrain starts they both burst out singing, or more likely, screaming.

“JEALOUSY, TURNING SAINTS INTO THE SEA, TURNING THROUGH SICK LULLABIES, CHOKING ON YOUR ALIBIS. BUT IT’S JUST THE PRICE I PAY, DESTINY IS CALLING ME. OPEN UP MY EAGER EYES ‘CAUSE I’M MR BRIGHTSIDE!“

They have done a lot of ridiculous things in the past but Hero never imagined to sit next to John in a car, singing “Mr Brightside” at the top of their lungs. She never imagined themselves to be this happy and carefree. And she never imagined herself being in love with him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few notes for those of you who've just finished this chapter.  
> 1.) It wasn't supposed to be this long. I was contemplating cutting it off before they start on their way back to Wellington. But that would've been quite a short chapter, so I added some more. It doesn't round off quite as well but I hope it's still good.  
> 2.) Hero falls in love quite quickly, over the course of an afternoon. Maybe too quickly for some people's taste. But I've been in the same position, falling in love with someone I've known for quite some time before. It's like something just clicks into place and suddenly you see the person differently. In retrospective you've probably been in love for some time already, you just realise it then. And this chapter is that point for Hero. So I hope you understand my choices.


	25. and life makes love look hard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John learns a few things about himself and about love.

It's a rainy Thursday and he's driving down to his therapist's office like he does every other week. The gnawing doubts have been occupying his head for a few days now and he's still not sure if he wants to address them in therapy. Therapy's for dealing with the ghosts of his past, not his current problems that include falling in love with a girl that once became collateral damage in his manipulative games. But it's kind of connected, like everything is in his life. And he can't quite seem to cut the strings.

“I think I might be in love with someone”, he mutters.

“That's good.” At least his therapist isn't surprised. She's a tall and lanky woman, with her greying hair always up in a bun.

“I don't deserve to be in love with her.”

“Why?”

“Because I hurt her in the past.”

“How did you hurt her?”

“You know the story. I convinced her boyfriend that she was cheating on him so my brother would look bad-”

“We're talking about Hero?”

“Yes.”

“She's told you she's forgiven you, hasn't she?”

“On multiple occasions.”

“And do you believe she's forgiven you?”

“It's not a matter of her forgiving me. I don't think we'd be friends if she didn't mean it.”, he says. “It's a matter of forgiving myself.”

“Good.”

John blinks at her. She has the strangest reactions sometimes. But maybe that's because she's a therapist.

“Now, John, do you think Hero deserves love?”

“Yes.” Hero deserves a thousand things, but first and foremost she deserves to be happy and loved. He's just not sure if he can give her all that.

“What about you? Do you deserve love?”

He considers the question for a moment. A few years ago, his answer would've sounded entirely different. But now...

“I don't know.”

  
  


They sit around the living room playing Risk, a board game that Finley brought home from her parent's house. She also brought along her younger brother, Rowan, who's seventeen and currently looking at universities.

The game has already started off with a huge discussion about why New Zealand isn't on the map and Moira proclaiming that she doesn't really want to attack anyone because she's a pacifist. Finley has suggested making it a drinking game despite her underage brother being present, which earned her protests from both Hero and Mo. And now it looks like John is slowly taking over the world, also known as the map on the game board.

He's already taken up both South America and Africa and is now forcing his way into Europe. If he's good at anything, it's strategy board games. Moira is almost out of the game by now and Rowan and Hero are constantly launching attacks at each other in Asia. Meanwhile Finley is trying to hold her defence against John in North America.

“Darn it, John!” Moira takes her defeated soldiers out of Great Britain.

“Well, I wanted my homeland back”, he jokes, stationing a cavalry on the British Isles.

“Who knew you could be so cold and calculating?”, Finley says, smirking. She's almost as good as him at Risk and the game looks like it's going to end in a fight to the death between their armies.

“I did!” Hero raises her hand, grinning.

He smiles and shakes his head. But it hurts a little, to think about it. Cold. Calculating. Cunning. Manipulative. John the Bastard. It's just a game, he tells himself. He's changed. But the memories are still there in the back of his mind.

  
  


He wins. After three and a half hours of playing, at 11:42 PM. Hero, who's been out of the game for about an hour now, is asleep on the couch next to him, her legs on his lap. He wakes her while Finley puts away the game.

“Come on, sleepyhead, we've got to get you home”, he says. “Almost midnight.”

Hero yawns.

“Can't I just stay over?”, she mutters.

He should've gotten used to it by now. There's good reasoning behind her question. It's late, it's dark outside and she's tired. But he really doesn't want things to get more complicated. Hero looks at him expectantly, rubbing her eyes. She's too adorable when she's sleepy.

“Okay”, he sighs.

She follows him into his bedroom and he offers her a t-shirt and shorts to sleep in. His tracksuit bottoms would be way too long for her. She disappears into the bathroom and he pulls out a second pillow and blankets from the storage space under the bed.

“Pick a side”, he says when she comes back. “I'll be right back.”

He stands in the bathroom, brushing his teeth and staring at his face in the mirror. What is he doing? More importantly, why is he doing it? Why is he letting the girl he's in love with and desperately tries to keep his distance from while still remaining friends, why is he letting her stay over? As if sleepovers haven't caused enough drama for them. No cuddling, he tells himself. No touching.

He comes back to find Hero already asleep on the window side of the bed, curled up, her blanket pulled up to her chin. He switches off the lights except for a small paper lantern lamp on the windowsill and slips into bed, under his own blanket, lying as far away from Hero as possible. It takes him a long time to fall asleep.

  
  


It's harder to put up a mental barrier than it is to put up a physical barrier. He can't think of her less when she's away than when she's there. For him, falling in love isn't agony because he doesn't know if the other person shares his feelings. It's agony because he doesn't want to be in love. He doesn't **deserve** to be in love.

The knowledge that he struggles from low self-esteem is long ingrained in his brain. The knowledge how to deal with it is still hard to grasp. It works in certain parts of his life. His confidence about his art has increased a lot during the past few months. But relationships of any kind are a more difficult thing to deal with and understand.

“Why are you friends with me?”, he asks Moira.

She's doodling away on his chalkboard wall while he's trying to make a list of his strengths and weaknesses for his therapist.

“Because I like spending time with you”, she says.

“No, but what do I have to offer that makes me a preferred person to spend time with?”

Moira stops her work and turns around to face him. She seems to consider his question for some time before answering.

“You're not acting like someone you're not. If you don't like something, you're honest about it.”

“Do you think I'm manipulative?”

“No.”

“Because you've never seen me being manipulative.”

“Because I believe that's a trait of the past, something you've given up.”

“But I still could be. You've seen me play Risk the other night.”

“That's a game, John.”

“What if it wasn't?”

“Listen, John, you've grown.” Moira sits down cross-legged in front of him on the bed. “Do you know how I know that? Chris.”

“Chris?”

“He's the one person I could picture you truly hating. He treated Hero like shit. He was a jerkface. From what I remember he treated you like you weren't even there the few times all of us actually spent time together. He was freaking jealous of you.”

“What?”

“Yeah. And I **know** from what you've told me you could've done a lot of things. Ruined his reputation. Make him hurt like Hero was hurting. I don't know. But remember what you did? You baked a cake for Hero and supported her.”

John leans back against the wall and contemplates Moira's words. She's right. But does that even prove anything? He didn't care about Chris, to be honest. He only ever cared about Hero.

“You're loyal to your friends”, Mo says. “Even if there's only a few of us.”

  
  


In a surprising turn of events, Benedick skypes him one evening. He's just sitting at his desk, feet up on it, trying to read a book about Contemporary Arts for class, when the familiar call sound comes on. His laptop logs on automatically to Skype most of the time but he only has a few contacts and barely uses it most of the time. He checks the pop-up and knits his eyebrows together. Benedick never calls. They only chat occasionally. With time differences and all it's a bit difficult. They have about as much contact as Pedro and him. Which is to say, rarely. Nevertheless he accepts the call.

“John!” Ben sounds a bit surprised and a second later his video chat appears. “Johnny Boy...”

“What are you doing, Benedick?”, John asks, still confused, putting away the book and shuffling around in his seat.

“Calling you, to chat”, Ben says. “What else does this look like to you?”

“Like you just pressed a wrong button on your computer.”

“Well... no.”

“Okay...”

“Hero isn't answering so I thought she might be at your place”, Ben explains a bit embarrassed. John just shrugs.

“I think she's on a photoshoot today and she's coming home late.”

“Photoshoot?”

“Yeah, you know, taking pictures of their designs... Fashion Design students do that occasionally.”

“Okay, yeah...”

Benedick seems a bit uneasy, restless. John catches him fiddling around with something but he can't see what it is.

“Did you want to talk to Hero about something in particular?”, he asks, trying to help Ben along.

“Kind of?”

“Anything I could help you with?”

There's a lot of hemming and hawing from Ben, before he finally says: “Do you think Bea and me are too young to be getting married? Be honest. We've been together for four years now. We're still studying. What if she gets sick of me? What if it's not right? What if-”

“Ben?”

“Yeah?”

“You are not the kind of boy who would marry the wrong girl”, he says. “You two are it for each other and you know that.”

There's a long pause.

“Right”, Ben finally says. “Got it.”

Another pause.

“You're okay now?”, John asks. “Can I go back to reading?”

“Yeah”, Ben says distantly.

“See you around, Ben.” John hangs up on him before Benedick can reply. Then he shakes his head, a bit amused. He never thought he'd have to assure Benedick Hobbes that he'd made the right choice in getting engaged to Beatrice Duke.

  
  


“Hey Donaldson, get over here!”, Finley shouts from her bedroom. He still hasn't told her about the other last name. “And bring your headphones!”

It's a Tuesday afternoon and he's just gotten home from class, not in the best of moods. He rolls his eyes, grabs his headphones and shuffles over to Finley's room. She's sitting in front of her stereo system and looking at something on her phone.

“What?”, he asks.

“Sit down.” She pats the carpet next to her. “Plug in your headphones.”

There's a double adapter in the headphones output and she's already plugged in her headphones. He plugs his into the second output.

“Why are we-”

“Shhh!”, Finley interrupts him. “You've got to listen to this on headphones while lying on the floor. It's mandatory.”

He lies down on the floor as told and Finley lies down next to him. She taps on her phone and the music starts.

It's instrumental music and at first he doesn't really know why she wants him to listen to it. He glances over at her. She's staring at the ceiling, so he does too. And then the music slowly swells, starting to rise. He's not sure how it happens, but it loosens something in him. He relaxes into the carpet and closes his eyes. A simple voice joins the music, no text, just harmonies. It's strangely uplifting.

Finley shuffles next to him. He squints over at her. She's brushing away tears from her eyes. It's the strangest thing. But he doesn't say anything, just grabs her hand when she puts it back down next to his. She squeezes it but doesn't look at him.

They lie there for a while after the music fades out. Finally Finley slowly sits up, taking off her headphones and wiping over her eyes with the sleeves of her sweater. John follows suit, unplugging his headphones from the stereo system.

“You okay?”, he asks quietly.

“Yeah”, she huffs. “Sorry. Sometimes I just get really emotional about film music.”

“No problem. Thank you for sharing.”

He awkwardly pats her back. She let's out a short laugh and shoves him playfully.

“Look at us, Donaldson, sharing emotional stuff”, she says. “Never thought this day would come.”

“Yeah...”, he replies. “Actually, it's not Donaldson...”

  
  


His therapist shuffles through her notes.

“So, John. I'd like to ask you this question again, to see if anything has changed in the past two weeks.”

“Okay.”

“Do you deserve love?”

He takes a deep breath.

“Yes.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no excuses. This just was the perfect way to round off the chapter. And I needed a bit of character developement for dear John.  
> EDIT: I've been reprimanded by Jessie for not posting the music piece that Finley and John listen to. (https://soundcloud.com/ikkichi/remember-me)


	26. but I'll hold you through the night until you smile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hero makes some changes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for keeping you all waiting for so long! I was quite busy with uni and I got stuck with writer's block for a few days inbetween, so I've just finished this now. Hope this chapter can make up for the long wait.

She runs her fingers through her hair and looks at her reflection in the mirror. The thought about cutting it short has been in her head for months now. Mixed up with the accusations that girls always change their hair after a break-up, she's had a hard time on making the decision. But now it's finally short. Not as short as Mei's or Ella's, but shoulder-length. She went to the hairdresser with a picture of Taylor Swift circa 2014 and it turned out surprisingly good.

Except now she can just barely make a ponytail. She tries it but it loosens up almost immediately, not really holding much of her hair together. With a sigh she stores away the elastics in her drawers. From now on just bobby pins and headbands.

It's fun to watch people's faces when they first see her. She gets a round of applause from the other girls when she comes home from the hairdresser and Mei can't stop touching her hair for the evening. Hero walks with her head a little higher now, wearing heels more often. She felt pretty before but now she feels confident.

  
  


Moira's birthday is a few days after the cut. It's a rather comfortable affair, just a friendly get-together with home-made Indian food from two of Moira's flatmates. Hero shows up a bit early and there's about five minutes of squealing and admiration over her new haircut from Mo, followed by another five minutes of excited jumping-around because of Hero's present which is a slightly altered bohemian dress she got from an opshop just down the street from her apartment.

“Oh my, look at us.” Moira twirls around in front of her mirror in the dress and laughs. “Me with my new dress and you with your new haircut.”

She flops down next to Hero on her bed and hugs her, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head.

“You lovely lovely girl”, she says. “You're truly a gift to this world.”

“Oh, shush you!” Hero blushes and hides her head in her hands. She can't flip her hair in front of her face to hide her embarrassment now.

“It's true!”, Moira insists. “Now I really have to up my game for your birthday next month.”

“I don't really celebrate my birthday”, Hero admits. She'd rather spend that day just with people she loves, eating and having fun, than organising a proper party.

“Well, I'm going to get you a present any way. And a cake.”

“I can't say no to cake.”

“Good thing there's lots of it for dessert.” Mo wiggles her eyebrows. “Come on.”

  
  


The house Moira lives in has once been a family home with two storeys and a big garden. But it's been in the hands of students for years now and it looks like it too, furniture thrown together in a mixture of styles and colours. There's a big living room which occasionally gets cleared out for dancing, but other than that, the house isn't really one for big parties. Mostly it's just dinner and game-nights.

The bell rings just as they come down the stairs and Moira skips down the few last steps to open the front door. It's Finley and John, with presents and more food. Mo greets them enthusiastically but Hero stops in her tracks halfway down the stairs.

She's not even sure why, she just does. Suddenly she's very self-conscious about her short hair and her outfit which is really just some old skinny jeans and an oversized green sweater. The music from the living room seems just a bit louder than before, drowning out the voices, and time seems to slow down for a few seconds.

John's eyes find hers in an instant. He blinks and if he's surprised by her change of appearance, he doesn't show. A grin quickly spreads on his face instead. She lets out a breath she didn't realise she was holding and steps down the last few stairs.

“Hey”, she says, smiling at him. When she stands on the first step she's still a bit shorter than him. Before she can decide otherwise she hugs him in greeting

“Hi”, he replies, his voice muffled by her hair, a soft breeze on her neck. His thumb brushes over it and fingers tangle in her hair for a second before he pulls away. At that moment she doesn't regret cutting it short one bit.

  
  


After dinner, Hero finds herself sitting cross-legged on one of the sofas in Mo's living room, pulling the sleeves of her sweater over her hands. Moira falls down next to her, nudging her in the process and grinning at her.

“What?”

“You look a bit forlorn.”

“Just thinking.”

Moira puts an arm around her and hugs her in response.

“Relax”, she says. “Everybody thinks it looks good.”

Before Hero can respond, Gwen comes out from the kitchen with a cake that has 21 burning candles on it. A shudder runs down Hero's back as everybody starts singing “Happy Birthday” and cheers for Mo, who blows out the candles in one go. More cake and plates are brought out and everyone gathers around the coffee table, on the sofas and the floor, to have dessert.

Hero lets out a deep sigh and tries to banish the memories of her sweet sixteen from her mind. John has settled down in front of her and leans back against the sofa, his hair brushing against her naked feet. She ruffles his dark curls a bit absent-mindedly. He leans back some more, looking up at her, smiling. It quickly turns into a frown when he sees her looking slightly anxious. He turns around to look at her properly but she just shakes her head as if to say “It's nothing”.

“Cake?”, he asks.

“Just a small piece, please”, she says, trying to bring herself to smile at least a little bit.

  
  


She's gotten herself a bike just before the mid-year break so she wouldn't have to walk home at night every time she was staying late at her friends' places. But John still insists on accompanying her when she gets up to leave just after midnight. They drive in silence for a long time, eyes faced on the almost-empty roads. She can tell he's watching her and he's worried, but she's still trying to put it into words.

“It's just-”, she starts, then hesitates. “It kind of reminded me- Whenever I see people blowing out the candles on their birthday cake- It's like I'm expecting it, that disruption.”

“Fuck, Hero-” John brakes so abruptly, Hero has to make a U-turn before coming to stop next to him.

“Please don't”, she says, looking down at the asphalt. “It's not like you can change anything about it now. We've both got our demons and we're trying to live with them. One day at a time.”

“I just-” He props up his elbows on the handlebars of his bike and runs his hands through his hair, looking distraught. “I don't ever want you to feel like that. Like something bad is gonna happen every time someone blows out the candles on a birthday cake. You don't deserve those demons.”

“I know”, she says quietly.

He looks up at her and she doesn't budge, just looks back at him. She wants to tell him, so badly, that it's all in the past, that it's just some memories that stuck with her, that she's in love with him, that she sees the bad in him but also so much of the good. She wants to kiss him on forehead and eyelids and cheeks and neck, because she might not like kisses but she likes the soft touch of lips to skin.

But she doesn't dare. She doesn't dare to touch him anywhere some days. Not because she's afraid of breaking him. He's not made of glass and neither is she. But there are boundaries for him and sometimes she crosses them so thoughtlessly that she wants to slap herself afterwards.

“Let's go”, she says, turning her bike around and mounting it again.

  
  


She takes a deep breath before they stop on front of her building. She fumbles for a second for her keys and when she finally gets them out, she catches him looking. He's still worried, she can tell.

“Do you want to sleep over?”

It slips out before she can think about it. It's not a thing she ever asks but she's spent several nights at his place now and it's only a fair thing to offer it in return.

He seems to consider it for a moment. Then he nods.

“Okay.”

  
  


They lock away their bikes and walk up to the apartment. The other girls are already sleeping, so they try to be as quiet as possible.

“Where did you get this?”

“It's Mei's. She has a spare case, I don't know why.”

Hero pulls out the contact solution from Mei's cupboard in the bathroom.

“Are you sure she won't mind?”, John whispers.

“Of course not. This is Mei we're talking about.”

She grabs her jar of coconut oil and a cotton pad and begins to remove her make-up. They probably look odd, both examining themselves in the bathroom mirror, her taking off her make-up and him removing his contact lenses. He blinks a few times, then screws the case shut.

“Can you even see anything now?”, she asks with a smile.

“Just a little less”, he says, running his fingers through his hair. “What are we doing about my clothes? I can just sleep in my clothes-”

“Any way you feel comfortable. I really don't mind- maybe not naked, okay?” She blushes but he only laughs as quietly as possible.

  
  


They lie in bed facing each other, talking in hushed voices.

“How are you feeling now?”

“Better.” Hero brushes back her hair with her fingers. Maybe the sidebangs were a step too far. But they're hardly any shorter than the rest of her hair.

“Has that happened before?”, John asks

“Just a few times. I tend not to put candles on my birthday cakes any more.”

“So it's really just the blowing out the candles bit?”

“It's a lot of things. I can't be too sure. I try to avoid birthdays, especially my own.”

“It's next month, right?”

“Yeah.”

He watches her quietly for a moment. He's struggling to keep his eyes open, she can tell.

“Let's sleep”, she mutters.

“Okay.”

They turn their backs towards each other and she listens to his breathing, trying to fall asleep. After a while she turns back around, facing his back. There's a longing in her chest and she feels like she's about to cry, so she touches his back, careful fingers running down his spine, tracing the bones through the worn-out fabric of his t-shirt.

She can feel his breathing hesitate for a second. Then he lets out a deep sigh, reaching out over his shoulder for her hand. She slips her fingers into his and he pulls her arm around himself. Quietly shuffling closer, she snuggles up against his back, burrowing her face in the nape of his neck.

And somehow that is everything.

  
  


When she wakes, she's rolled around, their backs facing each other once again. She moves around a lot in her sleep sometimes, so she hopes she hasn't accidentally slapped him or kicked him in the shin at night. For a moment she just lies there, staring at the wall. John always picks outer side. Or rather, she picks inner side. She loves sleeping nestled against the wall sometimes, even if she has the whole bed to herself.

But now she has to get up, carefully climbing over John's sleeping form and grabbing her sweater from the chair she left it on last night. She sneaks out of her room and into the bathroom to brush her teeth and use the toilet.

  
  


When she comes into the kitchen, she finds Jo nursing a coffee and reading something on her phone. Bon Iver is playing from the small CD player they have sitting in the corner.

“Morning”, she mutters, filling the electric kettle with water to make tea.

“Morning.” Joanna takes a sip of her coffee. “How was the party?”

“Not really a party. But good.”

“You brought someone home?” Jo's never one to avoid the elephant in the room.

“Huh?”

“There are shoes in the hallway that are a few sizes too big for any of us.”

“Oh, yeah.” Hero grabs a cup from the cupboard and shuffles through the tea collection. “Those are John's. He stayed overnight.”

“Ah.”

Hero picks a green tea and pours the almost-boiling water over it. Joanna's quiet for a moment but it feels like the conversation isn't over yet.

“Is there something going on with you two?”, Jo finally asks.

Hero cradles her cup in her hands.

“I don't know”, she says. “Maybe. I haven't talked to him about it yet.”

She's a lot more honest with herself now than she's been in the past. But this isn't something that is entirely on her. At this point it's on both of them and she just can't bring herself to say anything because what if it gets up his guard again? What if it makes him run again, distancing himself from her? She's too afraid to jump then fall and spending months of picking herself up again.

Jo puts down her phone and looks at her.

“I don't think you should wait”, she says. “I think you should speak now.”

 


	27. and I don't wanna need you this way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John comes to a decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for use of ableist terms due to lyrics accuracy.

When he sees her walk down the stairs in Moira's house, he stops. This is a different Hero. She didn't tell him she would get her hair cut and it's certainly a surprise, but a good one. It reminds him that all things change, even her. She's not the same girl she was four years ago and he needs to remind himself that he isn't the same boy either.

She walks down to him and they hug and she still smells like her old self, but it's something new as well. He doesn't know how to tell her how good she looks. He doesn't know how to do anything around her properly. So he just keeps quiet and observes.

  
  


He's grown comfortable around her. More comfortable than he's ever been with anyone before. Maybe she's an exception. He hasn't figured that one out yet.

He doesn't mind the occasional hug from Moira, but they share a deep emotional bond that is mostly conveyed through talking and spending time together, doing things they like. He doesn't need to touch Moira to know she's close.

But he needs to touch Hero. He wants to brush strands of hair out of her face and curl his fingers at the nape of her neck. He wants to hug her close and tuck her head under his chin. He wants to touch her arm, her hands, her back, her cheeks. He craves it like he'd imagine allosexuals to crave sex. But he's too afraid to tell her what he wants. So she's always the one to instigate touch and he hates himself for it because there are days when she doesn't and he needs it like water in a drought. But that's just what he gets for being a fool in love.

  
  


July is rainy and August doesn't start much better. He invests in good rain wear and Finley considers investing in a car, trying to talk him into sharing one.

“Only if it's black”, he says, more sarcastically than serious, when they sit at the small kitchen table, eating dinner.

“Deal”, Finley replies.

“Finley, I'm not exactly big on money. Sure, I have savings from my gap year but they are not meant for a car to drive us to uni.”

“You could get a scholarship with your talent”, Finley suggests. “Or do commissions. Look at me, I'm making some good money off of selling my photography.”

“Yeah well, they're really good, so-”

“So is your art. Jeez, stop selling yourself short all the time!”

John just looks down at his plate. Maybe she's right. But he's not so sure about doing commissions. He makes art for himself, to deal with his own problems. He doesn't want to get another person involved. He's learned to take his teacher's instructions and assignments but commissions is something entirely different.

  
  


The opportunity arises unexpectedly just a few days later. They are having an open exhibition in one of the university buildings for a few weeks, where a lot of second and third year fine arts students are given the space to show off their works from the first semester of the year. John has only submitted a small assortment of charcoal and oil portraits, so when one of his lecturers approaches him in the studio one Thursday afternoon, he's surprised to say the least.

“It's just a portrait”, his lecturer says. “The client really liked your approach on charcoal. Said it reminded her of Guy Denning.”

John almost smiles. He's learned about Guy Denning and his art during his gap year and actually got the chance to see one of his exhibitions in England. It appealed to him, especially his drawings. Denning made him pick up charcoal again.

“Just think about it. Maybe until next week?”

“No, I'll do it”, John says, surprised by his own immediate reaction. But the mention of Guy Denning has sparked something in him again.

“Great!” His lecturer gives him a smile. “I'll arrange a meeting. If you don't mind I'd like to accompany you, since it's probably your first commission...”

“Yeah, sure.”

  
  


They have a first successful meeting with the client the following week. His lecturer helps him put together an updated portfolio and talks to him about pricing and payment methods in preparation. It's all a bit overwhelming but she makes sure he's not too intimidated by it all.

The commission is a portrait of the client's five-year-old daughter and John spends the meeting watching her looking at some books in the corner of the living room. Her mother offers an assortment of photographs, talking about how she doesn't want it to look too realistic but rather artistic. It's a strange request, a child's portrait all in black, so John offers adding chalk, pointing out a few examples in his portfolio. The mother is delighted by the idea, offering a price higher than he would have expected.

“You handled yourself quite well in there”, his lecturer says when they leave the household.

“Thanks, M'am.”

“I'm impressed. I've never seen a second-year student so calm at the opportunity of a commission.”

“It could still turn out a total disaster.”

“I don't think so. I've seen you work on assignments more difficult than this. Think of it as just another assignment. I assume you will work on it in our studios anyway?”

“If that's a possibility...”

“If you want to do it on the weekend, I could arrange some things.”

And that's how he ends up working at university on a Saturday afternoon.

  
  


He only checks his phone by chance during a short break he's taking. One missed call from Hero Duke. He knits his eyebrows together, then calls her back.

“Hi, John!”

“You called me?”

“Yeah, I just wanted to know what your plans are for today?”

“I'm working at uni right now. But we're having dinner at Mo's, you should come.”

“Sounds good- hey, how long are you gonna be at uni?”

He throws a glance at the half-finished portrait. It's just slowly taking form now. “Probably right until dinner time.”

“Is it okay if I drop by in half an hour or so? I have to pick something up at uni anyway.”

“Sure.”

“Great! I'll see you in half an hour.”

“Okay. See you then.”

He sits in front of the portrait for several minutes after that phone call, finally groans and puts his head in his hands. It's never going to happen if he just keeps pretending like nothing is going on. But what even does he want to happen? It's not like they're going to kiss and ride off into the sunset like they're in a movie. Because that would just be weird. And he dislikes kissing.

So he picks up his headphones and tries to drown the thoughts out with music, focusing back on his works. It works only half-good.

  
  


There's a rapping on the door he almost doesn't hear over the music. The studios are only accessible with specific student ID, so Hero can't let herself in. He pulls off his headphones and walks over to unlock the door for her.

“Hey”, he says. “Come to keep me company?”

“Yeah, what are you even doing on a Saturday afternoon in the studio?” She smiles and pulls him down into a hug before getting out of her coat.

“Working”, he replies and turns off his iPod, stuffing it into his bag with his headphones.

Hero hangs her coat over the back of one of the chairs and pulls it closer to where he is working on his drafting table. She's wearing grey trousers, a maroon blouse with polka-dots on it and a dark grey cardigan over it. Her blond hair is tousled from the beanie she just pulled off of her head.

“For uni?”, she asks, examining the portrait.

He shakes his head. “Commission.”

“Oh my god, really?” She beams at him from her chair. “That's so great! Congratulations!”

“Thanks.” He blushes and sits back down. “I didn't think I would actually do it but then my drawing lecturer came up to me- the client compared my style to Guy Denning's, so I kind of felt obligated.”

“I think it's good for you”, Hero says. “To get your art out there. You deserve to get recognised.”

He looks at her with a faint smile. He doesn't find the ways to thank her sometimes. Just for being his friend, encouraging him, supporting him. She's too good for him. The doubt is always there, always will be.

Maybe he stares a little to openly because she blushes and shyly brushes a strand of hair behind her ear.

“What about you?”, he asks. “What are you doing at uni on a Saturday afternoon?”

She pulls out a folder of sketches and soon they are talking again, about uni and art and their plans for this semester, their goals. She rests her folded arms on the tabouret next to his table and watches him draw while she tells him about her week. Occasionally he glances at her and she smiles at him, from her pillow of arms covered in dark grey cardigan.

“I like watching you draw”, she says after a while, one hand running absent-mindedly through her hair.

He smiles and tries not to smudge the drawing too much. “I like listening to you talk”, he replies, his eyes fixed on the portrait. But he can sense her smile.

  
  


When they show up on Moira's doorstep together in the evening, he catches Mo raising her eyebrows at him. But nothing is said on the matter, not when they eat pasta and John steals mushrooms off of Hero's plate because she doesn't like them, not when they decide to watch a movie and Hero's head drops on John's shoulder because she's getting sleepy. Nothing is said until the next day.

  
  


“Okay, drop your stuff, we gotta talk!”

Moira strides into his room and slams the door shut behind her. He's sitting on his bed working on a sketch and only raises his eyebrows for a split second.

“What?”, he asks.

She's crouching down in front of his old stereo system and tries to plug in her iPod, failing miserably.

“This is ridiculous!”, she curses.

“Just plug in the connector cable into the headphone output of the iPod- What is this about anyway?”

“Hero and you. You're being ridiculous.”

“Not that it concerns you what's going on between Hero and me but what are you referring to exactly?”

“Ugh!”

Moira throws herself on the foot of his bed and groans. It's kind of amusing to watch her. John puts away his sketchbook and stores the pens away in their case, then waits for Moira to explain herself. It takes her a few more seconds before she turns onto her back.

“I can't watch you make googly eyes at each other and flirt in your weird subdued ways for another week”, she says. “This needs to stop.”

“There's no flirting, Mo.”

“Yes there is. Tons of it. I've never seen you smile so much in my life- you're doing it right now!”

He grins and looks down at his hands.

“Okay, let's be serious for a moment here”, Moira says, sitting up. “What's holding you back?

“I can't...” He runs a hand through his hair. “I can't do that to her. She deserves better.”

“She deserves someone who loves her and cares about her”, Mo replies. “Someone who makes her happy. Can't you see that's you?”

He shakes his head. “It'd be better if things didn't change.”

“Nothing's going to change, John.”

He raises his eyebrows at her.

“You'll just be designated cuddle partners or something.”

“Hah”, he says sarcastically. “Very clever.”

“Okay.” Moira gets off of the bed and turns on the stereo. “I didn't want to do this, but you leave me no choice.”

  
  


She's blasting Taylor Swift in his room. These walls have never heard a single Taylor Swift song and he wanted to leave it at that. But what's worse is that Moira grabs the remote control of the stereo, turning the volume up to the highest before using it as a made-up microphone.

“Stand there like a ghost, shaking from the rain, rain”, she sings. “She'll open up the door and say 'Are you insane, 'ane?'”

“You are”, John mutters, but Moira completely ignores him.

“Say it's been a long six months and you were too afraid to tell her what you want, want. And that's how it works- that's how you get the girl.” She points at him. “And then you say-”

“No.”

“I WANT YOU FOR WORSE OR FOR BETTER, I WOULD WAIT FOREVER AND EVER! BROKE YOUR HEART, I'LL PUT IT BACK TOGETHER, I WOULD WAIT FOREVER AND EVEEEEEER- AND THAT'S HOW IT WORKS, THAT'S HOW YOU GET THE GIRL, GIRL!”

“Moira!” He groans and pushes a pillow into his face, but Moira just keeps dancing and singing until she's through the whole song.

“So?”, she says, a bit out of breath, standing in front of his bed, hands on her knees.

“Okay, fine!”, he growls. “If it makes you stop singing-” He gets up, puts on a clean black sweater an grabs his messenger bag. “I'll go talk to her.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hah! Cliffhanger or what? I'm writing, don't worry!


	28. pauses, then says „you're my best friend“

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy Birthday, Hero!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I could've made this longer but it's around 2000 words, the usual length, and I didn't want to keep you waiting any longer.

She's a bit surprised to say the least. She wasn't expecting company, not on a Sunday night. Especially not John, drenched from the rain. She just stares at him in disbelief for a few seconds.

“I needed to talk to you”, he finally croaks.

“You're ridiculous”, she says, shaking her head at him.

“Yes”, he replies. “I've been told so repeatedly today.”

“I'll go make tea.”

She disappears into the kitchen and she can hear John take off his shoes in the hallway and drop his bag in her room. He shows in the doorway a few seconds later as she pulls out their tea assortment.

“So what did you want to talk about?”, she asks carefully while preparing a pot of herbal tea.

John sighs and runs a hand through his hair. He looks nervous and her brain is quick to connect the dots.

Oh.

She takes out two cups from the cupboard with shaking hands.

“I don't think the kitchen-”

“Got it.” She hands him the cups. “My room.”

He disappears with the cups, leaving her alone in the kitchen. It takes her a few minutes to make the tea, enough time to collect her thoughts and calm herself at least a little bit. It's not like she doesn't have a clue. In fact she might have a pretty good clue about what's going on and somehow it sends her into a slight panic.

When it comes to love, she's completely hopeless. Every previous relationship for her has started with a kiss, not with a talk. Talking, she feels, has generally been lacking in her relationships.

But this is John, they talk just as much as they share silent moments. He's her best friend and she doesn't want to loose that. She doesn't want to make things awkward between them.

So she decides not to, picking up the teapot and switching off the kitchen lights.

  
  


She finds John standing in front of the wall above her bed where she's hung up photographs and drawings from the past and the present. He turns to look at her when she comes in and carefully sets down the teapot on her desk.

“I don't think I can handle tea right now”, he mutters.

She nods and turns down the soundtrack music she always has running when she reads, sitting down on her bed, cross-legged. She needs to be brave, for John, so she tries to make him feel as comfortable as she can.

“Sit”, she says.

He takes a seat at the foot of her bed and she hates the physical distance he puts between them, but maybe that's what he needs right now.

“You want me to start?”, she asks. He shakes his head and ruffles his own hair again.

So she waits for him to say something, break the silence, find the right words. She wonders what it will be like. This is a turning point and she's very much aware of it, but they can't back out now. She just hopes they come out unscathed.

  
  


“I'm not aromantic”, he finally says. She nods, trying to encourage him to speak on.

“In fact, I'm quite sure I might be demiromantic- It doesn't matter. I know I've told you I've never been in love before and that's the truth. I just- I was never this close to anyone. I never thought- I was always being quite sarcastic about it, saying I was unable to love. And it wasn't even half a joke, I believed it most of the time.”

Hero watches him, leaning slightly forward. She wants to move over to him, put her arms around him and hold him close. They rarely talk about the deep things, she's more likely to hear from Moira about his internal struggles than having him tell her herself. And she respects that. It's sort of an unspoken mutual agreement that sometimes, Mo is his voice. Because some battles you only like to fight once.

“It's a self-esteem issue”, he continues, wiping a hand over his eyes. She can't tell if he's crying or just close to. “But I'm working on it. It's not exactly easy with what's been going on lately- Am I even making any sense to you?”

“You're being a bit vague but other than that...” She untangles her legs and instead pulls them close to her chest, resting her chin on her knees.

Silence settles between them and it's clear he's trying to figure out what to say and how to say it best. She wonders if it were easier for him if she just came out and tell him about her own feelings. But this is his moment and she's not going to take it away from him and make it about herself.

He looks up at her and she gives him an encouraging smile.

“I like you quite a lot”, he says quietly. “And that's the scariest thing for me.”

She hesitates before replying. “I know.” She stretches out her left leg and nudges him with her foot, as close a thing of comfort as she can give him right now. It draws a pained smile out of him that almost breaks her heart.

“John...”, she says. He stares at his knees. “In case you haven't noticed you clearly mean a lot more to me than just a best friend. Meeting you again that day in art lab was the best thing that could have happened to me. I got a chance at actually getting to know you and I saw a light in you.” She lets out a short laugh and looks down at her stocking-clad-feet. “Took me long enough to fall in love with you.”

When she doesn't get any reaction, she throws a careful glance at him and she can see the corners of his mouth twitching, into a smile.

“It's always scary”, she admits. “And sometimes it's not worth the risk... But I think this is.”

“But what if it's not?”, John finally speaks up, his smile vanished, a distraught look on his face. “What if it all goes down in flames like- like four years ago?”

“Four years is a long time. I was a different person back then and so were you.” She pushes a strand of hair behind her ear. “And I'll never forget what happened but- I'm moving forward. And I want you by my side.”

Their eyes meet and she can see the tension slipping out of John. She's not sure if she has won him over yet but she knows this is not a problem solved by one talk. It's always going to be there, in the back of their minds, a reminder of how breakable they are. The fear of breaking again just gets less constant.

  
  


“I think tea would be good right now”, John says.

“Yeah, I think so too.” She smiles and gets up to pour two cups for them. “Here you go.”

He shifts around a bit on the bed to sit a little more upright before taking the cup from her.

“Is it okay if I-” She gestures at the space next to him.

“Yeah, sure.”

She sits down, leaning against the wall, careful to leave space between them, pulling her knees up again. They sip their tea in silence and the worry about things being awkward between them begins to fade. She catches him looking at her and she blushes.

“What?”

“You're in love with me...”, he says quietly

“Yeah.” A sudden surge of giddiness fills her and she grins.

He seems to consider it for a moment, before saying: “Everything's going to change now, isn't it?”

“Are you scared?”

He wrinkles his nose and knits his eyebrows. She looks at him and falls in love with him all over again.

Wordlessly she drops her left hand on the covers of the bed between them. It takes him a moment to react. Careful fingertips slide into the palm of her hand and then slip between her fingers. She smiles and leans back, closing her eyes, enjoying the feeling of his hand in hers.

  
  


They drink tea and listen to music and find a new balance between them through quiet talks and soft touches. They share worries and fears and he relaxes against her until she convinces him to lie down on his back, his head on her lap and her fingers in his hair.

“I should go home”, he murmurs, eyelids closed. “What time is it?”

“Almost 1 AM.”

“Oh. In that case, Happy Birthday.”

She lets out a soft laugh. “Right. I almost forgot about that.”

“Welcome to the world of people in their early twenties where everything's a mess and nothing makes sense.”

“I thought that was puberty.”

“No.” John yawns. “It doesn't stop there.”

She smiles and runs her fingers through his hair. “Why don't you stay over?”

“So many reasons, but you're making it really hard to get up.”

“Sorry.” She retracts her fingers and he squints at her before slowly sitting back up.

“If I didn't go I couldn't come back”, he says, getting up, straightening his crumpled sweater. She smiles up at him and shakes her head.

Part of her doesn't want him to go but she also knows not to rush things. He'll be back tomorrow and the day after and the day after... She trusts him in those things. She trusts him to be gentle and kind and patient, just like she is with him.

She holds her hands out to him and he pulls her up. She's stumbling a bit on the semi-soft mattress of her bed and grabs his shoulders for balance. His eyes laugh up at her, even as tired as they look.

“Can I kiss you on the forehead?”, she whispers.

He blinks at her, a sign she has long recognised as him considering a question. “Okay.”

Carefully she leans down, stabilising herself on his shoulders and pressing her lips to his forehead. She lingers for a moment before pulling back.

“I'm glad it's you.”, she murmurs, stepping off of the bed. He pulls her into a hug and it's so nice and comfortable in his arms. Her brain is trying to convince her that he should stay over after all but she keeps her mouth shut and smiles up at him when he lets her go.

He picks up his bag and slips into his shoes in the hallway. She leans in her door frame, watching him as he puts on his jacket. He hugs her goodbye one last time before he leaves and she falls into bed with a smile that lights the whole room.

  
  


Her birthday is a day like any other. For a change it looks like it's actually going to be sunny though. Her mothers call her while she gets ready, trying to decide between trousers and skirt. She listens to them sing to her on the phone and smiles at herself in the mirror. They ask if she's coming home for mid-semester break, which is soon, but she doesn't know yet.

Mei and Ella are already off to uni and Jo is sitting in her room with the door open, working on something on her laptop. Hero knocks on her door frame to get her attention.

“No work today?”, she asks with a smile.

“Nah.” Joanna stretches in her desk chair and swivels around to look at her. “Just writing on my thesis. Happy birthday, by the way.”

“Thanks.”

“Same as last year?”

“Yeah, I don't think I- I mean- It's a Monday anyway.”

“Hero, it's okay.” Jo smiles at her. “There's a cake in the kitchen though, just a head-warning. Ella couldn't be dissuaded.”

“No candles?”

“No candles.”

“Thanks.”

Hero already turns to head into the kitchen when Jo clears her throat.

“So, there were some shoes in the hallway last night...”

Hero smirks and leans back against the frame of Jo's door. “Oh, yes”, she says. “There might be something going on.”

“Good to know.”

“In a completely asexual way.”

“Even better.”

Joanna winks at her and Hero turns around with a grin on her face, skipping off into the kitchen to make herself a late breakfast.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is **not the end**. :)


	29. and you knew what it was – he is in love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John takes his sweet time adapting to the changes in his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so so sorry for the long wait for this chapter. I promised the story wasn't over and it isn't but I fell into a deep hole of writer's block and this chapter took me weeks to force together. The last 1000 words or so came fairly easy in comparison. Let's hope you don't have to wait as long for the next chapter. This one is already extra-long.

He gets home in the middle of the night, careful not to wake Finley by making too much noise. He sneaks into the bathroom, sitting on the rim of the bathtub and brushing his teeth, trying to grasp what just happened. His brain still has problems trying to connect all of Hero's actions, her behaviour towards him, with actual feelings for him.

It takes him a while to realise he's just staring at his face in the mirror before e takes out his contacts and splashes lukewarm water into his face, drying it off with a towel and returning to his room. On his chalkboard wall there's a handwritten message from Moira:

_Dear John. Hope you got the girl. She loves you (yeah, yeah, yeah). (That were The Beatles, not TSwizzle, sorry. You know Taylor's basically your love guru right?) You belong with ~~me~~ her. I'm pretty sure she had the best day with you (today). I see sparks fly whenever I see you two together. I wish you would stay stay stay with her forever and always. You're absolutely the lucky one, I'm pretty sure you're made of starlight and I'm so proud of you. Hold on, make it last. You are in love, true love. Also you're the best. See you tomorrow – Mo._

He can't help but chuckle while reading it. Sometimes Moira does the most ridiculous things but she always knows what he needs, even when she's not there in person. She's stuck a photograph with a piece of sticky tape under the message and he leans forward to see it better in the half-darkness of his room.

It's a picture of Hero and him, taken back in April in Timaru on the beach. She's wearing his dark-grey sweater because she was quite cold that day and he didn't mind the weather so much, so he lent it to her. They're sitting in the sand, he's flipping through a book and she's got her head on his shoulder, smiling.

He can't even remember the picture being taken but sometimes Finley is incredibly sneaky with her photography. That's what makes her so good, she catches the unguarded moments.

Just like that, the anxiousness from before is all gone and he goes to sleep with a lighter heart.

  
  


The next day is a blur. He oversleeps and comes into art lab late, earning him a raised eyebrow from his lecturer and a grin from Moira. He hands in the commission drawing which he finished on Saturday and then continues on his own work. Mo drags him out to lunch with Finley but he only picks at his food.

“Are you okay?”, she asks.

“Yeah”, he mutters, taking a sip of his bottle of water instead.

Mo throws him a strange look but is quickly distracted by someone behind him, having her smile and wave. Before he can turn around, a pair of hands find their way onto his shoulders and he startles.

“Sorry, did I scare you?”

He closes his eyes for a moment and then heaves a sigh of relief. Hero's voice. Of course. He should've guessed.

“It's fine”, he says. Hero rubs his shoulders for a second before moving over to Mo who has gotten up, beaming, greeting the birthday girl with a hug. Finley hugs her as well before she can settle down in the empty seat next to John.

“So, I know there's no birthday plans”, Moira starts. “But dinner, right?”

John almost startles again when Hero slips her hand under the table, fumbling for his hand and then squeezing it. He has to hold back a smile and instead picks up his fork again, suddenly very interested in his curry and rice.

“Yeah, we're having a small get-together”, Hero says. “No party, obviously.”

“Do we need to bring anything?”

“Maybe some salad? Oh, can you make tabbouleh? It's so tasty...”

“Yeah, I could do tabbouleh.”

John shoots Finley a slightly confused look but she only shrugs in return. Apparently neither of them has any clue what tabbouleh is. Figures. Their idea of dinner is pasta with some pre-made sauce, takeaway food or inviting Hero and Mo over to cook.

Fin clears her throat. “So, what about plans for the weekend?”

“You mean next weekend?”, Hero asks.

“Yeah, I mean, the last one is just over...”, John adds.

Finley and Moira look at each other. He can tell they're internally rolling their eyes at them.

“Yes, next weekend”, Moira clarifies. “Anaru's gonna lend me his car and we wanted to go on a day trip. You two want to come?”

“That sounds so lovely”, Hero says, smiling at Moira.

“John?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Great enthusiasm there”, Finley remarks.

John raises his eyebrows at her. She remains unfazed by it and for a few seconds they have a silent stare-off over the lunch table. Only the brush of Hero's thumb over the back of his hand distracts him.

“Where are you planning on going?”, he asks.

Moira grins at them. “Spoilers.”

  
  


Hero's birthday dinner is somewhat unspectacular. John's still not quite sure how to act around her now but it seems like they're doing the whole “nothing has changed” thing, which is not so far-fetched. Nothing **has** changed except for one talk and holding hands under the table and letting a hug last just a few seconds longer than normal.

He's made her a painting of Elephant Rocks, the place they went to together when they were staying in Timaru with Mo's family. It's just a small framed watercolour painting but Hero asks him to come find a place for it on her bedroom wall and for a moment they're alone in her room, the door halfway-closed. Happy chatter seeps through from the kitchen and living room and she puts down the painting on her desk, wrapping her arms around his chest.

“Glad you're here”, she whispers.

“Where else would I be?”

She looks up at him, her eyes laughing. “I don't know.”

“I don't know either”, he admits. He's still careful to touch her, hugging her in return, but her forwardness makes him brave, brushing fingers through her hair.

“So I wanted to ask you something”, she says, letting him go and leaning against her desk. “I mean, we haven't even- We haven't talked about this yet. And I know how you feel about me and I think you know how I feel about you-”

He realises he's holding his breath.

“I just wanted to know if you feel like sharing what's going on between us with other people”, Hero continues. “Like Mo for example-”

“Mo already knows.”

“Oh.”

“I mean, I didn't tell her... But she probably knows something's up.”

“Okay. In that case, Joanna knows too.”

“Not Mei?”

“She's been very busy lately. What about Finley?”

“I wouldn't say she's entirely clueless.”

They look at each other, suddenly grinning, and Hero reaches out, taking his hand in hers, brushing her thumb over his knuckles.

“Do you want to try and see how long it will take them to say something?”, he asks with a gleam in his eyes. Hero giggles and tugs him towards her, leaning her forehead against his chest. He smiles down at her crown of blond hair.

“Yeah”, she says after a while. “Let's just leave them out of it while we figure this out.”

“Good call.”

“Now where do I hang up your painting?”

  
  


The week seems to move along more slowly than usually. The hours he doesn't spend with Hero drag on for what feels like eternity, and there are quite a lot of them. He finds himself sitting in front of his drafting table, staring at an unfinished drawing. His mind is in another space.

He's somewhere in the state between absolute happiness, which is unnerving for him, and intense disbelief that what is going on is actually happening. It feels like he's stuck in a dream, just as afraid of waking up as he is of it turning into a nightmare. He's not sure what to do about it, scared about ruining the magic, so he plays along.

  
  


It's Friday evening and he's going up to Mt. Vic to meet Hero halfway. She's had to finish her shift at the bakery a little later, so the sun is already setting when he sees her coming up the hill. She looks radiant, not just because the sun is setting right behind her and her hair is shining like a halo around her face.

His heart drops right there and a sudden surge of panic fills him. He's not sure if Hero can see it in his face but her smile fades as she approaches.

“What's wrong?”, she asks instead of a greeting.

“I think I'm asleep and I'm scared of waking up”, he says without really thinking about it. He wants to slap himself immediately for it because he doesn't want to unsettle her, make her think like something isn't right between them.

She hesitates before smiling at him. “It's okay. I'm still going to be there when you wake up.”

He tries to smile back but it's hard when you're questioning everything that's going on around you. It's hard when you feel like you don't quite belong and everything you touch might break.

“Come on”, she says, holding out her hand for him. He takes it, still getting used to the feeling of their fingers laced together.

She has the skill to distract him from his worrying thoughts as they walk, side by side, her telling stories from the bakery or from her recent Skype call with Bea and Ben. He likes to listen to her voice, it's soothing.

He doesn't know why he can't say these things he wants to say to her. It's not for a lack of words, it's more like words can't express how he feels about her. Every term, every expression sounds emotionless or like a cliché. But she deserves special, she deserves magic, she deserves more than he thinks he can give.

  
  


Without him paying attention, Hero has lead them back to his street. They're standing at the small path down to the house and he looks at her.

“Are you going to invite me in?”, she asks with a smile.

“Would you like to?”, he replies.

“Yes.”

“Okay then.”

She follows him down the path, the stairs. He pulls out his keys, fumbling, blushing. Her smile is ever-present and he lets them in, holding the door open for her.

“Tea?”, she asks, slipping out of her shoes and hanging up her jacket.

“Sounds good.” He pulls off his beanie, the one she knit him, the one he still looks at with a smile. She's already skipping down the hallway to the kitchen, turning on the lights. Apparently Finley isn't home because her bedroom door is open with no signs of life, so it's just them.

Hero's got the electric kettle already filled and set up and when John comes into the kitchen, she's standing on he tip-toes, trying to reach the tea on the cupboard. The laugh that escapes him is unexpected. It makes her turn around, frowning at him.

“Are you mocking me?”

“You just-” He points at the cupboard and chuckles. “It's adorable.”

“I really feel like you're mocking me”, Hero says but he can tell from the look in her eyes that she's slightly amused by the whole situation as well.

“Absolutely not!”, he protests. “Do you want me to get that or do you need a lift?”

“You couldn't even lift me, John, with those arms.”

He gasps in mock horror and marches over, wrapping his arms around her waist , lifting her about half a metre in the air. She laughs and fidgets until he sets her down again.

“We might need to work on that”, she says, her face flushed but covered by a bright smile. “Will you get me a chamomile tea?”

“Yeah, sure.”

  
  


They drink tea, lounging on the sofas in the living room, soft music playing from the stereo in the corner. Hero's got her legs thrown across his lap, her head on several pillows, staring at the ceiling. He's still sipping his tea, recounting a story of how he once fell into a duck pond trying to feed the ducks when he was three.

He doesn't even know how they've come to this. It's rare that he talks about his childhood. Those are the forgotten days and the only person he's ever shared those stories with is dead. But now there's someone new, someone that wants to know the little things, like the colour of his first bike or his favourite subject in elementary school.

“Hey, Hero?”

She hums in response, her eyes half-closed.

“I think I'm awake now.”

She smiles. “Metaphorically?”

“Yes.”

“That's good.”

“And I'm in love with you.”

It takes her a moment before she slowly sits up, pulling her legs off of his lap. He thinks he's lost her, right there, saying something too honest. But then she crawls over, wrapping her arms around him, curling up next to him.

“So am I”, she murmurs.

“In love with you?”, he teases.

She laughs. “No, with **you** , you nonsensical creature!”

He smiles down at her, his heart all light and fluttery again, just like five nights ago. He realises, slowly, that the feelings-part, the fact that she's in love with him, will always feel like a dream. It's the only thing that's changed and the only thing he can't quite wrap his head around it. He thinks he won't ever get used to it.

  
  


“Just so you know, I want you to tell me when you feel uncomfortable, okay?”

“Yeah, I might get a crick in the neck.”

Hero laughs. “You know what I mean.”

“I think I do.”

“So if I told you that I might've gone out and bought an extra toothbrush on the way to meet you-”

“Thank God”, he groans. “Because you know, I have this thing about sharing my toothbrush: I hate it.”

“I didn't want to be too forward though, so I haven't packed sleepwear...”

“Do you want to stay overnight?”

“Only if that's okay with you.”

“I can lend you something to wear... Not sure it would work the other way 'round though.”

She giggles, probably at the thought of him in her clothes.

“I might have some t-shirts and sweatpants that would fit you”, she offers.

He shakes his head in disbelief. “Great. Now I only need an emergency case for my contacts and another toothbrush at your place, then we're all set.”

Hero sits up, untangling their limbs, looking at him with a curious look on her face.

“What?”

“Do you think we're moving along too fast?”, she asks, sounding slightly anxious. “You know, with the toothbrushes and the clothes and staying over...”

He runs a hand through his hair. “It's only practical”, he carefully says after a moment of silence between them. “It's not like we've never done it before, the staying over. We slept in the same bed for two weeks back in Timaru. You let me sleep over in your bed on New Years when it was clearly too small for two people.”

“Yeah, I think we've already skipped all the awkward parts”, she replies with a returning smile. “I just don't want you to feel like I'm pushing you.”

“I wouldn't count a toothbrush as an invasion of my personal space.”

  
  


She lies on her side of the bed and he on his. Not metres apart but not cuddled together either. It's a simple decision, made by separate blankets and a few exchanged whispers. She sleeps better alone and he wonders how often she's sacrificed sleep for the preferences of other people.

“I give you permission to cuddle in the morning”, she mutters, yawning. “If you feel like it, that is. Just please don't wake me before ten unless it's an emergency.”

“How do you feel about breakfast in bed?”, he asks, shuffling around to get comfortable on his pillow.

“It's heaven on earth.”

“Green tea?”

“Preferably.”

They lie in silence for a while and he can tell she's slowly drifting off to sleep.

“Good night”, he says quietly. She mumbles something but he can't make it out. It doesn't matter. Nothing is important after 2 AM except for the fact that she's there, next to him, falling asleep.

 


	30. all I know since yesterday is everything has changed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All Hero knew this morning when she woke is she knows something now, knows something now she didn't before.

She wakes, but only halfway, after her sluggish brain puts together two and two, realising that it's just John who's carefully putting an arm around her. Cuddling. She's glad he's getting the hang of it. He always seemed to be the more touch-averse of them, so any indication of him opening up to her and feeling comfortable around her is a relief. Even if she's barely awake yet she manages to hum and snuggle a bit closer before drifting back to sleep.

  
  


The next time she slips into consciousness it's because John is getting up. It takes her some time to become fully awake but when she turns around he's already left the room. Heavy rain is drumming against the window.

John's room looks a bit cluttered, but it doesn't register as messy in her brain. It's more homely. She pulls his blankets on top of hers, curling up under them. She almost considers closing her eyes just one more time until he's back with breakfast but then she spots the scribbles on the blackboard, making her sit up to inspect them.

She recognises Mo's handwriting and it makes her smile. Yeah. Mo knows. Mo definitely knows. And from the picture taped beneath it, so does Finley.

Grinning she falls back onto her pillow, rolling around to press her face into it.

  
  


The door opens and closes quietly and she turns around to see John carrying in a tray with two steaming cups, a plate of toast and a bowl with fruits in it. She gives him a sleepy smile.

“Morning”, she says, pushing her pillow up against the wall so she can sit up.

“Good Morning...”, John replies. “Where's my- Did you-” He looks at Hero who grins and pulls the pile of blankets over her head. She can hear him laugh through the thick material. “I never would've taken you for a blanket-hoarder, Hero Duke.”

She drops the blankets and props his pillow up next to hers, then holding up the blankets for him.

“Come on”, she says. “There's room for both of us here.”

He puts down the tray on the bed, climbs up and scrambles under the blankets next to her, the tray on their legs. Hero pulls it over onto the windowsill before any dramatic accident with spilled hot liquids can happen.

“Okay”, she says. “Coffee, that's yours-” She hands him his cup, it looks like he's already taken a gulp of it. “And tea for me.” She throws him a smile. “Thank you.”

“No problem.”

They sit in bed, drinking tea and coffee, eating toast with jam and peanut butter, talking quietly, not minding the time. It's a peaceful Saturday morning.

  
  


That is until the front door slams shut and voices fill the hallways. They turn to look at each other. John's face is priceless, like he's been caught. Hero grabs her phone from the windowsill. A missed call and two messages. It's 10:16 AM. Oh. Right.

“We had plans”, she mutters. “Remember?”

“Damnit” John groans and runs his hands over his face, sliding down onto the bed. She shakes her head at him.

“John?”, somebody calls outside. Undoubtedly Finley. “Hope you're ready, we still gotta pick up Hero!”

Said Hero giggles and slips down onto the bed as well, hiding her face in her pillow. John looks slightly worried.

“What are we going to do now?”, he hisses. Which makes her laugh even more, trying to muffle the noise with the pillow. He looks a bit annoyed, running his hands through his hair. He does that sometimes, she's learned, when he's trying to focus.

There's a knock on the door. John raises his eyebrows at her. 'I don't know', she mouths. He throws his hands up in exasperation.

“They're going to find out sooner or later”, she whispers.

He throws her a pained look but she only nudges him with a smile on her face. So he sits up, turning to face the door. “Come in!”

There's some shuffling going on outside before Moira's face appears in the doorframe. “Good morning, sleepyhead-” A grin spreads on her face. “-and other sleepyhead.”

Hero laughs and presses her her face back into her pillow before she raises an arm and waves in Moira's general direction

“Okay, so we don't have to pick up Hero”, Mo notes to Finley, who's apparently still out somewhere in the hallway.

John leans over Hero's blanket-covered body, grabbing the tray off of the windowsill and getting out of bed. “I'm gonna go take a shower”, he mutters.

Hero watches him pass by Moira who's still standing in the doorframe, smirking. As soon as he's gone, Mo sprints over, jumping onto the bed and tackling her with a hug.

“I knew it!”

Hero can't stop laughing for five minutes.

  
  


They make a stop at Hero's flat to pick up proper attire for her before heading out of Wellington in Anaru's car. Moira's driving and it's a bit of a throwback to their adventures in April, music playing and happy chatter. No more secrets except for the fact that John and Hero still don't know where they're going. Mo told them to put on their tramping boots and pack enough to drink, so it's probably going to be a hiking trip.

Hero has picked up some _pain au chocolat_ at the Bakery before they have left the city but it seems like Mo organised most of the food supply, judging from the Tupperware boxes she divided equally onto four backpacks. It's going to be a day trip, that much is sure.

  
  


It's an hour-long drive and the sky finally seems to clear when they arrive at a stony beach.

“I thought we were going to go hiking”, John remarks as they get out of the car.

“We are”, Moira says, opening the back of the car to get the backpacks. “This is Makara beach. We're taking the Makara Walkway.”

Hero's already skipping down to the water, taking in the view over the bay. It's still windy and there's foam on the waves coming in. Her hair is flying in her face but she's only laughing, standing there in her grey-blue sweater, leggings and hiking boots.

There's the click of a behind her and she turns around to see Finley with her analogue SLR camera.

“Nonono, turn back around, maybe stretch out your arms!”, Fin calls. Hero laughs and does as she's told, raising her arms like she's a bird, flying, or she's trying to embrace the world. The camera behind her clicks again.

“Okay, got it!”

When she turns around this time, Moira and John have appeared alongside Finley with their backpacks on. John is holding hers as well and she quickly moves over to take it from him with a smile.

“Everybody ready?”, Mo asks. “If you need to use the toilet, now's your last chance.”

  
  


Sometimes Mo has strange ideas. But this one turns out to be a rather good one. They don't go hiking often, their trip to Timaru was something a bit out of the ordinary in that case. Chris used to take her hiking a lot, but she brushes those memories off her mind as quickly as they come.

The path they take leads them up the hills and soon they find themselves at the top, surrounded by wind and rays of sunshine blinking through the clouds. They sit on their rain jackets in the wet grass, eating _pain au chocolat_ (except for Mo who has some vegan chocolate chip cookies) and drinking tea from a thermos bottle, passing around the one cup they have.

“Okay, so is this officially a thing then?”, Finley finally asks, gesturing between John and Hero.

They look at each other. She hasn't even thought about that, that she could technically now introduce John as her boyfriend or partner or whatever the appropriate term in their relationship is. If he agreed to it, that is.

“What kind of thing are we talking about?”, John asks, raising his eyebrows at Finley.

“You know exactly what kind of thing-”

“DESIGNATED CUDDLE BUDDIES!”, Moira interrupts them, throwing herself away with laughter at her own clever name. Hero can't help but smile at her silliness. It's certainly something different.

“That would make it seem like I wouldn't want to cuddle anyone else though”, she points out. John throws her a weird look. “Like Mo. Or Bea.” He visibly relaxes and she nudges him, trying to assure him that everything's fine.

“Nobody would take you seriously, by the way, if you introduced each other as designated cuddle buddies”, Finley remarks.

“Yeah, thanks for the heads up”, John mutters. “Because people totally understand the concept of a relationship that doesn't consist of making out and having sex all the time and will take us completely seriously for it.”

“Hey.” Hero takes his hand in both of hers. She can tell there's something deeper bothering him about this, but he won't say.

“Okay, let's just drop it, alright.” Moira, always the voice of reason, trying to keep peace in the group. “We'll let you figure it out on your own, okay? We're just glad you two are happy and everything. That's what's important here.” She claps her hand together. “Now who wants some rice chocolate?”

  
  


John walks with his hands in his pockets and she feels the distance growing again. Clearly his mind is completely wrapped around something else than what they are talking about, he's more quiet and withdrawn than usual.

She lets Mo and Finley go ahead and falls back, waiting for him until they walk side by side.

“Can I please hug you?”, she asks. He stops and she carefully winds her arms around him, pressing her face into his chest. It's like she seeks comfort but in fact she's seeking to give it to him. He only accepts it hesitantly.

“You know, we don't have to bother with the whole labelling things”, she says, looking up at him. “I know how I feel about you and-”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course, I...” She lets him go, taking a step back, trying not to stumble over her words. “Whenever I see you I just- I want to be near you. I want to see you smile and hear your voice. You're my best friend... and I am absolutely in love with you.”

She can't tell if the look in his eyes is anguish or affection. He's so hard to read sometimes and him not really talking about things doesn't make it any better.

“You mean so much more to me than the word girlfriend could ever describe”, he says quietly. It makes her blush, lowering her head.

His warm hand in hers comes unexpected. “We're losing the others.” She smiles and nods, following him, not letting go of his hand.

  
  


The walkway leads them over the hills and then back down to the water. It turns out to be a rather sunny but windy day and the pictures that Finley is taking with her cameras show laughing faces and hair flying everywhere. They also show hands entwined, shy smiles hidden away in a dark grey sweater and three figures at the shoreline, trying to skip rocks on the ocean.

Hero likes these kind of days, these escapes from the ordinary world. It calms her worries, makes her feel like everything's fine. She's jumping over rocks and driftwood, laughing, only to stumble back into John's arms.

He seems to be happier now and she hopes that he will figure out whatever is going on in his head. It's probably not easy for him, this new thing between them. If she's honest, it takes some getting used to for her too. But she's been in love before, she knows these feelings. And he- well, according to his own words, he never was. It's uncharted waters for him.

So she takes his hand and leads him through it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm very sorry if the ending of this story comes as a bit of a shock to you. It was quite a surprise decision for me as well. I just read the last paragraph and I thought to myself: "Yes. That's it. That's how I want to end a story."
> 
> Obviously you might have seen that this story has become part of a series called "and for the first time what's past is past". That clearly indicates that there is still more to come. But right now I feel like this is the right time to wrap this story up and regroup. Maybe there will just be drabbles and ficlets in the near future. Maybe another full-fledged-several-chapters fic. I don't know yet.  
> But there definitely will be more in this space. Don't worry. ;)
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone who's been reading and commenting and supporting this story. It has been a great joy to write this and the feedback I've been getting has been absolutely wonderful.  
> I want to give special shoutouts to a few people:  
> Mara, who was the first person I talked to about this fic when it was just an idea in my head.  
> Shawna and Elizabeth, for your constant support and all your lovely comments.  
> Ailish, who sent me very long messages on Tumblr due to this fic (and then just because we became friends).  
> Jessie, for all the emails and videos, I feel like this fic is the cornerstone for our friendship.  
> All the lovely ace (and aro) readers who read this fic, I am so happy to be part of the Ace Community and be able to contribute something to it, even if it's just fanfic.
> 
> Thank you and goodnight. :)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [just because you're clean don't mean you don't miss it](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6176275) by [wibbelkind](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wibbelkind/pseuds/wibbelkind)




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